


Caught in the Middle

by dojaegay



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Healing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of conversion therapy, it's just 20k of me projecting onto jaehyun, this is not as sad as it seems I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 15:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojaegay/pseuds/dojaegay
Summary: “I’m sorry that I am the way I am, Jaehyun,” Doyoung confesses, his voice serious and solemn. There are many layers to everything that comes out of Doyoung’s pretty lips, and even this concise statement is no exception. Jaehyun may be austere with his own words, but he’s good at identifying the true meaning that hides behind the ornaments that flood Doyoung’s speech. This time, he has chosen simplicity over complexity, partly because he wants to be honest, but mostly to avoid giving more information than he’s comfortable with.“I love the way you are,” Jaehyun professes, blushing immediately after, mortified at his own bluntness. Doyoung smiles fondly and his grip on Jaehyun’s hand tightens.





	Caught in the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> for tahlia and maria. thanks for putting up with me!

Jaehyun doesn’t think being tired should be considered a personality trait, yet he can’t help but feel like that adjective is the only one that can properly describe him. 

His days are filled with numbers and terms that he can’t understand and, quite frankly, he doesn’t care about. He can’t imagine a worse fate than having to spend the rest of his life doing this, counting made-up money. It’s been almost two years o f this, and he can feel himself slowly withering away, disappearing into nothing. 

He has been reduced to a ghost of his former self, but he’s so tired that he can’t seem to care anymore. Jaehyun used to be proud of himself, but he can’t even remember what that felt like anymore.

He spends most of his days in the library, mostly because it has great wifi that he doesn’t have to pay for. He’s in the midst of falling asleep on top of his Statistics textbook when his phone buzzes with a new message. It’s from Yuta, inviting him to a party. Jaehyun replies with a monosyllabic “sure”, and quickly collects his stuff before leaving.

He returns to his own dorm and takes a long, meticulous shower. He could tidy up, but his room is already squeaky clean. Almost like a hospital. Impersonal, lifeless.

He arrives at the party at 23:30. He can spot Yuta already passed out on a couch, but Taeyong and Johnny are nowhere to be seen. He pours himself a glass of cheap vodka with orange soda and downs it all in one go. 

“That looks disgusting,” someone says beside him. 

This has to be a record. He’s only been at this party for ten minutes and someone has already approached him. 

He turns his head and finds a beautiful man standing next to him. He is only a bit shorter than Jaehyun, has perfectly combed black hair and wears golden rimmed glasses. The man is wearing a completely black outfit—including a leather jacket—that compliments his pale complexion perfectly. He is beautiful, with sharp features and a small, pink mouth. 

“It is,” Jaehyun replies to his comment. 

The man raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Then why did you drink it?”

The question catches Jaehyun off-guard. “To get drunk, obviously.”

The man snorts as he pours himself a glass of coke. Only coke. “I’ll never understand why you freshmen like to torment your livers just to fit in.” His tone is condescending, which offends Jaehyun. He doesn’t find him as beautiful anymore.

“I’m not a freshman,” Jaehyun clarifies. 

“You’re not?” The man looks genuinely surprised, and Jaehyun can’t decide which is worse: the idea that the man was messing with him, or the idea that he actually mistook him for a freshman.

“I’m a sophomore,” Jaehyun explains. 

The man takes a sip of his coke. “Same difference,” he says. “Sophomores still think they know everything there is to know about the world. And you,” he points an elegant finger at Jaehyun. “Look like an extreme case of College Brat.”

Jaehyun clenches his fist so hard his knuckles turn white. “And who are you to make that judgement?” He gives the man a defying look. 

The man doesn’t yield. He looks straight into Jaehyun’s eyes, instead. “I’m someone that’s been in your shoes. Believe me, you aren’t all _that_. None of us are.” He leaves his cup on the table. “Hope you enjoy whatever crap you’re drinking. See you around,” and he leaves. 

Jaehyun stares at his broad shoulders as he walks away. His cheeks feel like torches, fired up from the embarrassment and anger. 

Never in his life has anyone disrespected him like this. He feels sick to his stomach, and not because of the disgusting drink. 

He smashes the empty plastic cup on the table, crushing it under his hand. A couple who had been flirting next to the drinks table turn around to stare at him, eyeing him up and down with their eyebrows raised. Jaehyun resists the urge to give them the finger. 

He walks up to the couch where Yuta is lying, all his limbs in a different direction. He smells like he just bathed in tequila. “Hyung,” he shakes Yuta, to no avail. “Let’s go.”

Yuta makes a noise of discomfort, but doesn’t even move. 

“God, I hate you so much,” Jaehyun lets out, even though he doesn’t really mean it. “Wake up, grandpa!” He screams in Yuta’s ear. 

Yuta jolts awake, almost slapping Jaehyun in the process. “What the hell is your problem?!” He yells at his younger friend. His bleached hair is an absolute mess, and Jaehyun already knows he will whine about it incessantly for the next couple of days. Yuta is _obsessed_ with his hair, since it’s the only thing in his life that brings him joy. To each their own, Jaehyun guesses.

“Let’s leave. This party is extremely boring. Unworthy of us,” he winks at Yuta, who rolls his eyes at him. 

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” Yuta replies, but he’s standing up, or at least trying to. 

Jaehyun smirks as he slides one arm around Yuta’s waist, letting him use his body for support. 

“You have a problem,” Jaehyun mumbles as Yuta ejects the cocktail that had formed in his stomach that evening right around the corner of their dorm.

Yuta laughs in between gags. “Look who’s talking,” and he vomits again.

+++

The library is so silent Jaehyun thinks he might go insane. The numbers on his Economics textbook are starting to morph, curling at the edges, turning into something illegible. It looks like Hebrew or Thai.

Before he loses his mind, for good this time, Jaehyun decides that enough is enough and starts to pack. There really is no reason for him to stay at the library, except to warm up the chair he had been sitting on. 

He slings his backpack over one shoulder and grabs his coat with his other hand. The weather is in one of those transition periods where it’s freezing in the mornings but warm in the afternoon, which means he ends up carrying around his jackets most of the time. 

He walks out of the building, daydreaming about the _takoyaki_ he’s going to manipulate Yuta into making for him as dinner when someone familiar spots him.

“Well, hello,” the man says. It’s the same one from the party, although he looks a bit different this time. His clothes are softer, less intimidating. He’s wearing a baby blue sweater and ripped jeans, as well as the same glasses from last time. Surprisingly, he’s smoking. It’s mint flavoured, Jaehyun notices, which somehow fits the man's cold demeanor perfectly.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he continues to talk to Jaehyun. “In the library, you know. Studying. I didn’t peg you for the kind of kid who does much work.”

Jaehyun’s nostrils flare. “Do you have a problem with me?” He’s not in the mood for whatever this guy is trying to start.

The man laughs and takes a drag of his cigarette. “No, I don’t have a problem with you. You just annoy me.”

Jaehyun frowns, confused. “What?” He voices his astonishment. “Do you even know my name?”

The man shakes his head. “Do I need to? You can tell me, if you want,” he winks at Jaehyun, clearly mocking him. “I’ll treasure it.”

Jaehyun’s brain is exhausted and clogged, and he’s never been good at making smart decisions. “Jung Jaehyun,” he tells the man. “At least now you know who you’re messing with.” He adds childishly, instantly regretting it.

The man snorts. “Jaehyun, huh? I like it. It’s elegant, not too complicated. It goes well with your family name, _Jung_. Also nice, not too common.”

Jaehyun doesn’t understand this guy, at all. “Why are you analyzing my name? Shouldn’t you be giving me yours? That’s usually how things work.”

The man smiles, and his gums show. It should be a terrifying smile, but somehow he makes it work. “Do you want to know my name that much?” He walks up to Jaehyun, standing in front of him. Their height difference becomes clearer now, but Jaehyun can’t help but feel smaller. “I’m afraid it’s not as nice as yours.”

Jaehyun takes one step back. “It’s okay, you can keep it,” he says, then turns around and walks away. 

He can hear the man cackling, but he doesn’t turn around to look. He’s already given him enough satisfaction.

+++

As expected, Jaehyun fails the Economics exam. He doesn’t really care that much, but his mother does, and if he keeps fucking up there will be consequences, eventually. At least, that’s what his mother says. Not that he listens to her much these days. He’s too tired to deal with her constant nagging.

He runs into Taeyong as he walks out of the classroom. “Jaehyun, hey!” His tiny friend greets him, charming as ever. He looks exhausted, but Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen him without the bags under his eyes.

“Hyung,” Jaehyun greets him back. “I didn’t know you had class here today. I thought you’d be at the labs.”

Taeyong is studying Nursing, or at least he’s attempting to do so. Jaehyun doesn’t understand how he can think about treating others when he can’t even take care of himself, but he has long learned not to question Taeyong’s ambitions. The last time he made a comment, Taeyong broke down in loud, heart-wrenching sobs. 

“Actually, I don’t have class today. But I made Yuta these _onigiri_ and I was hoping he’d try them.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun nods. It’s obvious that the Japanese dish is just an excuse, but the topic of Yuta is another one that Taeyong doesn’t enjoy discussing. In all honesty, there are very few aspects of his life Taeyong is open about. Maybe that’s why he likes Yuta so much, because the Japanese never asks, he just _does_. “I think he’s in the other wing, hyung,” he tells Taeyong. “I believe most Literature classes are taught in the other wing.”

Taeyong stares at him with his doe eyes and nods. “Right! Of course! I’ll go now, then. Meet us for dinner later?” He asks as he walks away.

“Sure!” Jaehyun replies, waving with his hand, even though Taeyong is already almost out of sight.

 

The rest of his day is uneventful. He throws away most of his lunch, feeling full after just a few bites. He skips his last two classes in favour of taking a nap in the library, then he goes to practice. The water that day is particularly calming, and Jaehyun swims like his life depends on it. His coach is very pleased with him, and the fact that he’s getting closer to beating his own record makes Jaehyun feel happier with himself than he has in weeks. 

He takes a quick shower and puts on the same clothes he was wearing before, since he forgot to pack clean ones. As he’s tying his shoelaces, he gets a text from Taeyong. It’s an address, which upon further investigation Jaehyun realises is for a ramyun restaurant in downtown Seoul. 

Jaehyun texts him back with one hand almost an hour later, as he holds onto the bus’ handrail. He’s never been very good at texting back, since his head is always busy with something else. Not that he has many worries, but lately he can’t seem to focus on more than one task at the same time.

When he gets there, the restaurant is awfully crowded, but he sees Taeyong lift up a bony hand as soon as he walks in. 

“Hey,” he greets his friends casually as he sits on the chair next to Johnny, across from Yuta. “Look who decided to show up,” he jokes, earning a kick to the shin from his Japanese friend.

“Let’s get along, shall we?” Johnny petitions. “We have a beautiful night ahead of us.”

Taeyong nods in agreement, then calls the waitress so they can order. “So, Johnny,” he starts to say once the waitress is gone. “Tell us about Taeil.”

Jaehyun’s eyes meet Yuta, and they both make annoyed faces at each other. Johnny is a romanticist, a man of long, convoluted words who could talk about his lovers for hours and hours.

Jaehyun dozes off for the rest of the conversation, letting Taeyong chat his tongue off, choosing to eat in silence instead. He doesn’t even know what his friends are talking about when Johnny lets out a booming: “Doyoung!” 

Jaehyun lifts his head from his bowl and finds himself staring at his least favourite person in the world. He grips his iron chopsticks tighter as Johnny stands up to share a casual handshake with ‘Doyoung’. 

So that was his name.

“Why don’t you join us?” Johnny suggests, and Jaehyun feels his blood boil. 

_Please say no, please say no._

“Sure, why not. I was planning on eating alone, anyway.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun murmurs through gritted teeth. Yuta, observant as always—only when he wanted to be, though—raises one curious eyebrow, but Jaehyun shakes his head. It means don’t ask, so Yuta doesn’t. 

Doyoung takes a seat next to Yuta, far too close for Jaehyun’s comfort. He still hasn’t made any of his characteristic smart comments, but Jaehyun doesn’t expect him to disappoint. 

“Doyoung here is the most promising psychology student in SNU,” Johnny explains. Doyoung smiles politely, but shakes off the praise.

“Please,” he doesn’t seem too affected by the compliments, almost as if he had heard them many times before. “That only means everyone else is really bad.”

Jaehyun dislikes this version of Doyoung even more than the condescending one. This version is polite, composed and, above all else, completely fake. His smiles never reach his eyes, and they’re so tense it almost looks like he’s suffering instead. 

Throughout the entire night, they only lock eyes once. As Johnny and Yuta discuss the new season in soccer, Jaehyun turns to sneak a glance at his archenemy. Surprisingly, he catches him staring. He’s dropped his façade, and is looking at Jaehyun like he knows something about him no one else does. Jaehyun shivers, but refuses to be the one to break the eye contact first. Eventually, it’s Doyoung who looks away first, turning his head to listen to Yuta as the Japanese asks him a question. 

Jaehyun feels his shoulders relax. He hadn’t even noticed how tense they were. 

After a while, Doyoung stands up. “I’m going out for a quick smoke,” he informs them.

“I’ll go with you,” Jaehyun replies, impulsively. 

Taeyong frowns. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“He doesn’t,” Yuta is giving him a weird look, one that gives Jaehyun goosebumps. “Does he?”

Doyoung finally looks at Jaehyun. He’s looking at him like he always has, and, for whatever reason, that makes Jaehyun feel much safer than his strained smiles. 

“It’s mint flavoured,” he tells Jaehyun once they’re outside. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I don’t smoke.”

Doyoung looks at him like he just revealed his deepest secret. “Then what on Earth could you possibly be doing here, enduring the cold November air, if you don’t smoke?”

Jaehyun can’t answer, because he genuinely doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. 

“What were you doing inside there?” He asks Doyoung as the other lights his cigarette. 

Doyoung takes a long drag before replying: “What do you mean?”

“Don’t bullshit me. That guy wasn’t you. He actually appeared decent.”

Doyoung lets out a laugh as he blows out the smoke. It’s a real, genuine laugh, surprisingly soft. It’s breathy and high-pitched, and it makes him look younger. 

“You’re very perceptive, aren’t you?” He stares directly into Jaehyun’s eyes, as he always does. “Or maybe you were just looking for the real me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you like me.”

Jaehyun snorts. “I don’t even know you!”

Doyoung shakes off some of the ash with his index finger. “I meant that you like bickering with me. Something tells me you’ve never had to face confrontation before, and our encounters must be… thrilling, for such a little prince.”

Jaehyun’s insides twist in rage. “You’re anything but thrilling.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I forgot how easy it is to wound a teenager’s ego.” He takes one last drag before putting out his cigarette and throwing the butt into the nearest trashcan. “If you don’t find me the least bit appealing,” Doyoung steps closer to Jaehyun. “Why did you follow me outside?”

Jaehyun remains silent. 

“That’s what I thought,” Doyoung smirks knowingly before walking past Jaehyun and into the restaurant.

+++

“Why were you so weird around Johnny’s friend?” Yuta abruptly asks one day. They’re laying on the grass outside of their university, skipping class, as usual. Jaehyun is resting his head on Yuta’s chest, but as soon as the question leaves his friend’s lips, he sits up.

“Huh?” He eloquently responds. 

Yuta asks again. “You acted so freaky the other night. I mean you looked tired before he showed up and you weren’t very talkative, but as soon as you saw him you went stiff as a statue.”

Jaehyun frowns. Had he really reacted like that to Doyoung’s presence?

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lies. 

Yuta punches his bicep. “Don’t even try to lie to me, dumbass.”

Jaehyun rubs the sore spot on his arm. “I wasn’t weird, I was just taken aback. I wasn’t expecting Johnny to just invite a stranger to sit with us.”

Yuta looks at him for a while before saying: “Oh my God, you and Doyoung knew each other already.”

Jaehyun absolutely despises his friend and his infallible detective skills.

“No, we didn’t!” He denies, far too enthusiasticly for his statement to be true. 

Yuta lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Are you sleeping with him?”

Jaehyun slaps his chest. “No, you horny idiot! He’s just an asshole who’s stalking me.”

Yuta’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?!”

“Okay, okay. Maybe he’s not stalking me but he definitely is an asshole,” Jaehyun clarifies. To say Doyoung is stalking him is a blatant overstatement, but Jaehyun still finds it baffling that they keep meeting at the most unexpected places. Out of the thousands of restaurants in the massive city of Seoul, Doyoung had to walk into the one Jaehyun and his friends were dining in. It’s ridiculous. 

“So how did you meet?” Yuta keeps interrogating him. 

Jaehyun sighs. “Remember that disastrous party I had to carry you out of? You threw up right next to our dorm room.”

“Uhm… You’re going to have to be a little bit more specific.”

“Oh my God,” Jaehyun groans out loud. “It doesn’t matter. We met at a party, he approached me first then proceeded to insult me before walking away without even introducing himself.”

Yuta scratches the side of his jaw. “So you didn’t know his name?”

“Not until Johnny pointed it out, no,” he lies down again, resting his head on Yuta’s chest. “Satisfied?”

Yuta plays with a strand of auburn hair. “Very,” he admits. “I’m excited to see how this will turn out.”

+++

Jaehyun swims until he feels his lungs are ready to burst. He walks out of the pool and his legs immediately give in. He falls to his knees, but doesn’t lose consciousness.

He’s just tired, he tells his coach. And it’s true, he’s exhausted. So tired even his bones ache. 

But he has to keep swimming, because it’s the only thing keeping him sane at this point. If he doesn’t keep swimming, he’ll drown, both figuratively and literally. 

Despite insisting that he’s fine and just needs five minutes to rest, his coach sends him home, begging him to get some sleep and never scare him like that again. 

As Jaehyun walks out of the building, his hair still wet from his shower, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. 

It’s his mother. 

He lets out a very shallow breath. His lungs are constricted again. “Hello,” he picks up, because it’s less dangerous than letting it go to voicemail.

“Yoonoh,” his mother says. He despises that name, rejects it completely. It’s the name _she_ gave him, despite his father’s pleas. “I finally got a hold of you.”

“I’ve been replying to all your messages,” Jaehyun answers, his voice monotonous. 

“Yes,” she agrees. “You have. With monosyllables. Son, I want to know how you’re doing. Your grades have been slipping lately.”

Jaehyun sighs. He can’t tell her that it’s her fault his grades have been lower than mediocre, because she won’t face the truth even if it hits her in the face. “I’ll work harder.”

“I’m sure you will,” she says, and in that moment they both know she’s won. “You’ve always been so smart, Yoonoh. It would be a shame if you let that brain of yours go to waste.”

_Waste_ , her favourite word. Jaehyun grips his phone so tight the edges dig into his fingers painfully.

“Goodbye, Mother,” he says, fighting back tears of frustration. There’s a painful knot in his throat, and it gets worse every second he spends talking to this woman.

“Goodbye, son,” she replies, and hangs up.

Jaehyun lets out a shaky breath before the tears start falling. He sits down on the nearest bench and allows himself this one moment of weakness, now that no one can see him. He cries and cries, letting out tiny sobs. He’s never been a loud cryer, something that has proven to be most beneficial for a person as proud as him. He can’t even remember the many times he’s locked himself in a public bathroom and cried for hours without anyone even noticing.

“Kid?” Someone calls his attention, startling him. 

He looks up. It’s Doyoung.

“Fucking hell,” he curses. It’s too late to pretend he wasn’t crying, but he still wipes his soaked cheeks with the sleeves of his hoodie as quickly as he can’t. He only manages to smear them all over his face.

“Are you okay?” Doyoung asks. There’s something different in his voice, something that resembles genuine concern, but Jaehyun knows it can’t be.

“Do I look okay?” He snaps at Doyoung. He’s nervously playing with his bottom lip, and it won’t take long before it starts bleeding. 

For some reason, Doyoung decides to sit next to Jaehyun on the bench. He digs his hand into his burgundy coat’s pocket, and pulls out his box of cigarettes. 

“Want one?” He offers. “Nicotine is a great stress reliever.”

“Are you actively trying to turn me into a fellow drug addict?”

Doyoung takes out a cigarette. “Just take it,” he says, shoving the damned thing in Jaehyun’s hand.

Jaehyun debates on it for a few seconds before shrugging. His life is already spiralling downwards, so he might as well make the most of it. 

“Here, I’ll teach you,” Doyoung scoots closer to him. He takes the cigarette from Jaehyun and holds it up in front of his mouth, his nails brushing the younger's bottom lip. 

“I could have done that myself,” Jaehyun complains, but he’s somewhat amused. Why did Doyoung even do that?

“Just hold it between your lips,” Doyoung tells him, and he’s blushing slightly. Jaehyun takes the cigarette with just his mouth. His lips brush the tips of Doyoung’s fingers, and he lets out a shaky breath. 

“I’m going to light it and you need to breathe in, okay?” Doyoung explains. “Think of it as a straw, but instead of a milkshake you’re ingesting asphalt, among others.”

Jaehyun laughs, but it sounds like a sob. “Okay,” he says.

So Doyoung lifts his hands and lights the cigarette, telling Jaehyun to breathe in. The moment he does, he’s coughing madly, gagging almost.

“Maybe take smaller drags?” Doyoung suggests, which earns him a death stare. 

Despite the initial accident, Jaehyun keeps trying until he gets the hang of it. He follows Doyoung’s instructions, taking smaller breaths. He stills coughs once or twice, but he no longer feels like his lungs are going to implode. 

“How can you do this everyday?” He asks Doyoung. 

“You said so yourself, I’m an addict. Besides, don’t you feel better now? More relaxed, perhaps.”

It’s true, Jaehyun does feel better. His brain feels lighter, but not the way it does when he’s drunk. He doesn’t feel like doing or saying something stupid. He just feels like himself, except less tense. 

“So,” Doyoung speaks up again. “Do you want to talk about why you were sobbing inconsolably?”

Jaehyun throws away the cigarette end. “No, not really.”

Doyoung nods. “Okay.”

Time passes, but neither of them stand up. Jaehyun doesn’t know if Doyoung is waiting for him to leave or if he has nothing better to do, but the truth is he doesn’t want to go back to his dorms and risk running into Yuta, or worse, Taeyong.

“We can talk about something else,” Doyoung suddenly says. It’s an odd suggestion, albeit an interesting one.

“Very well,” Jaehyun accepts. He turns so that he’s sitting with one knee on the bench too. This way, he can look directly at Doyoung. “What do you want to talk about?”

Doyoung shrugs. “Something to distract you from whatever was making you sad.”

Jaehyun thinks about it for a moment before he remembers a question he’s been meaning to ask since that fateful dinner weeks ago.

“How do you know Johnny?” 

Doyoung smirks. “Took you long enough to ask,” he wraps his arms around himself in what looks like a poor attempt to warm up. He’s very skinny, Jaehyun notices, yet he carries himself with such confidence that he looks much bigger. “We had a class together last year. He asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. We eventually became friends and I actually introduced him to Taeil hyung.”

“You know Taeil?”

“Yeah, we met when I was a first year. He tutored me, and we quickly became good friends.”

A new question arises in Jaehyun’s mind. “How old are you?”

Doyoung chokes on air. “Excuse me?”

Jaehyun blushes brightly, stunned at his own boldness. “I-I meant, what year are you in?”

Doyoung lets out one of his high-pitched laughs. “Is it relevant?”

Jaehyun frowns. “You’re always one step ahead of me! You know so many things about me, yet I know nothing about you.”

Doyoung cocks his head to the side. “So you want to get to know me?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and turns around so that he is no longer facing his annoying acquaintance. Because that’s what Doyoung is. An acquaintance.

“Come on, Jaehyun-ah. Just admit it, you’re intrigued by me.” _Yeah, that’s one way to put it._

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name out loud,” Jaehyun suddenly realises.

Doyoung stares at him, his mouth agape. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

They stay in silence for a while after that. It’s a heavy silence, one that signals a shift, a transition. Jaehyun can tell something has changed in between them, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. 

His phone buzzes again, but this time it’s Yuta.

“ _Where the hell are you?_ ” His friend screams, sick with worry.

Jaehyun has to pull his phone away from his ear. “Calm down!” He yells back.

“ _It’s almost midnight, Jung Jaehyun! What are you doing?_ ”

“Alright, alright, goddamn,” he stands up and picks up his sports bag. “I’m on my way, okay?”

Yuta puffs. “ _You better have an explanation,_ ” and he hangs up.

Jaehyun turns to look at Doyoung, who is also standing now. “I have to go,” he says, even though it’s obvious.

Doyoung nods. “Yeah, I heard everything,” he jokes, grinning.

Jaehyun returns the smile. Before he can chicken out, he approaches Doyoung. He stands close enough to notice how his lips are heart-shaped. 

“Thank you for listening, Doyoung hyung. I’m very grateful.”

Doyoung looks up at him. His eyes are glistening, and Jaehyun can already hear the witty comment. 

“Hyung?”

Jaehyun groans. “See you around.”

+++

Jaehyun is having a mental breakdown, once again. The conversation he had with his mother is still haunting him, weeks after.

It’s only after he gets a test back, a test that he has passed with a fairly decent mark, that he realizes. She’s in total control of his life. She just had to give him a call for him to improve his grades like the obedient son he is. 

He goes home, strutting angrily all the way, his backpack flopping against his back. Once he gets to his dorm, he punches the wall with all his might.

“Fuck!” He lets out loudly, holding his definitely injured hand close to his chest. “Fucking God,” he whimpers, overwhelmed and close to tears. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, taking in all of his features. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, plushy lips and a perfectly proportioned nose. His skin is soft and elastic, and his eyes are elegant, pointy and symmetric. He is aware of his own beauty, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He hates himself, after all, and being a pretty boy isn’t going to change that. 

His eyes eventually reach his hair, and that’s when the idea comes to him. He does have control over some aspects of his life. He grabs his wallet with his good hand and leaves without thinking twice. 

 

There are only plain, housewife colours at the supermarket, but there is a pretty bold bleaching kit that’s only a few thousand won, so he pays for it with the few bills he had left and exits the store, wondering how the hell he’s going to do this. His hand is almost palpitating against his chest, and he’s starting to wonder if he actually broke it. 

As he’s collecting his change, he hears a breathy voice behind him. 

“Jung Jaehyun,” Doyoung calls him, and Jaehyun decides that it must be fate. 

“Doyoung hyung,” he turns around to find his former enemy. “What are you doing here?”

Doyoung lifts his tote bag. “Shopping, what else could I be doing here?” He notices Jaehyun’s swollen hand and frowns. “Why is your hand purple?”

“Uhm—”

“And why are you buying hair bleach?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Is your afternoon free?”

Doyoung lifts his eyebrows. He stares at the bleach in Jaehyun’s healthy hand, then at his hair, then back at his injured hand. Jaehyun can see the gears turning in his head. 

Once Doyoung realises what Jaehyun is implying, he gives him a knowing smirk and shakes his head. “We can’t do this in your dorm’s bathroom,” he says as he wraps his long fingers around Jaehyun’s wrist and drags him out of the market.

 

Doyoung’s apartment is nicer than what Jaehyun was expecting from a college student. It’s small, of course, just like any other affordable apartment in Seoul. It’s barely more than a room, but at least it has a kitchen and a bathroom, however small they may be. Doyoung’s bed is in the living room, which is the only room in the apartment. He doesn’t have a couch, but there is a desk standing under the only window in the apartment. It’s filled with papers and uncapped pens, as well as a couple of beer cans and a semi-full ashtray. There’s an expensive looking laptop on top of all that mess, and it looks like Doyoung left it on before leaving. 

Doyoung’s apartment is a strange organised chaos, but it’s somehow very welcoming. Jaehyun likes how he can easily tell that a real, human person lives here, unlike his dorm or his childhood home. 

“I like your apartment,” he tells Doyoung as he takes off his jacket.

Doyoung snorts. “It’s a pseudo-apartment.”

He leads Jaehyun to the small bathroom and brings a stool from the kitchen. “Sit,” he orders Jaehyun. “And I also recommend you take off your shirt, unless you want to ruin it.”

“Uhm,” Jaehyun isn’t really that intimidated by the idea of being shirtless in front of Doyoung, but, the thing is, he can’t take off his shirt. He lifts his injured hand, trying to make Doyoung understand. And he does, rolling his eyes as he grabs the edge of Jaehyun’s shirt and pulls it over his head. 

The gesture feels awfully intimate, and they both avoid each other’s eyes once the shirt is off. Jaehyun catches a glimpse of Doyoung’s face in the mirror as he leaves the room again, only a bit flushed. 

Doyoung comes back with a bowl and a towel. He wraps the towel around Jaehyun’s neck, and the tips of his fingers brush Jaehyun’s clavicles. He may have dreamt it, but Jaehyun thinks he sees Doyoung shiver slightly. 

“Okay,” Doyoung speaks up. “Let me see how the hell this thing works.” 

After a few minutes of investigating, both with the instructions that came in the package and on the internet, Doyoung starts mixing the bleach. 

“I’ll only do this if you promise me something,” he says once the mix is done. 

“What is it?” Jaehyun asks, intrigued. 

“Once we’re finished, you’re coming with me to the hospital,” he points at Jaehyun’s hand, which they had wrapped in ice. 

Jaehyun sighs. “Fine, but don’t expect an explanation.”

Doyoung gives him a funny look. “Are you sure you want to speak to me that way as I hold this bowl of bleach next to your head?”

Jaehyun can’t help but let out an embarrassing giggle. “Right, sorry.”

Doyoung shakes his head, but he’s smiling fondly. “Alright, let’s do this.”

+++

“Oh my God! What the hell happened to you?”

Jaehyun cringes as Taeyong keeps yelling in the middle of his faculty’s lobby. He runs his healthy hand through his brand new bottle blonde hair. The other one is, unsurprisingly, in a cast.

Yuta, who’s standing next to Taeyong, gives him a concerned look. It makes Jaehyun feel uneasy, because it doesn’t feel like Yuta is worried about his hand, but about something deeper, less superficial.

“Why is your hand in a cast?” Yuta asks, his voice monotonous. 

Jaehyun shrugs. “I fell down the stairs.”

“Did the stairs bleach your hair too?” Johnny butts in. He’s behind Yuta and Taeyong, but he towers over them easily. 

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Look, I just dyed my hair and sprained my hand, it’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” Taeyong’s eyebrows shoot up. “Jaehyun, we lose sight of you for a day and you come back like this,” he points to Jaehyun’s entire being, as if every single cell in his body were a complete mess. 

Johnny wraps his arms around his friends’ necks. “Come on, guys. It’s just a little hair change.”

Yuta slaps Johnny’s arm off of his shoulder. He walks up to Jaehyun and stares right into his eyes. “I’ll be watching you closely form now on,” he informs him before walking away.

“Yuta, wait!” Taeyong runs after their Japanese friend, Jaehyun’s new look completely forgotten. 

Johnny approaches him, shoving his hands in his denim jacket’s pockets. 

“Now that the children are gone,” he says, elbowing Jaehyun playfully. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

_No_ , Jaehyun wants to say. _Nothing is okay_. But he’s too tired and shy to talk about his feelings. It’s quite literally the last thing he wants to do. 

He’s always tired. 

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I just wanted a change.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Johnny nods. He’s always been easier to convince than headstrong Yuta and fussy Taeyong. 

Jaehyun is about to leave when Johnny wraps one strong hand around his bicep. “I almost forgot!” He digs his hand into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “Doyoung gave me this. He said to give it to you.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he takes the paper. What could Doyoung possibly want from him now?

He unfolds the paper and reads. It’s a phone number, the words “text me, peach” scribbled under it. Doyoung’s handwriting is practical and precise. He links every symbol with each other, almost as if he never lifted the pen from the paper. 

Jaehyun blushes brightly. “Did you read it?” He asks Johnny, absolutely mortified. 

Johnny shakes his head. “Nope, why?”

Jaehyun shoves the paper in his hoodie’s pocket. “Nothing,” he replies, pulling up his hood in a poor attempt to hide his blush.

Johnny frowns, but he’s also smirking. “Okay… Well, I have to go to class now. See you later, man.”

Jaehyun waves at him and leaves in the other direction.

+++

In a completely unsurprising turn of events, Jaehyun is in the library again. He’s certainly not studying, instead attempting to read a book for once in his illiterate life. However, his hands are not cooperating. He keeps dropping the book, losing the page he was reading.

The books slips from his injured hand for the umpteenth time and Jaehyun lets out a frustrated groan, tilting his head back. He bends down to pick it up, but someone else is there already. Their fingers are long and bony, the fingernails healthy and shiny. Jaehyun recognises these hands, because he’s seen them up close. They’ve brushed his hair and healed his bruises. 

They’re Doyoung’s.

“Lo-li-ta,” Doyoung reads the book’s name aloud. “It’s in English,” he states.

Jaehyun gapes at him. The paper in his back pocket burns. “Uh, yeah,” he says, characteristically inarticulate.

Doyoung raises his eyebrows. “You speak English well enough to read a Nabokov book?”

Jaehyun nods. “I lived in America for four years.”

“Ah,” Doyoung lets out. He hands Jaehyun his book before taking a seat next to Jaehyun on the worn out sofa. “You never called,” he suddenly says.

Straight to the point, as always. 

Jaehyun blushes brightly, gripping the edges of his book, trying to resist the urge to bury his face in it. “Uh, I didn’t.”

“May I ask why?”

Jaehyun starts piling up mental brick after mental brick, building his emotional wall. It has a sign on the front that says ‘emotionally constipated’. “Was I supposed to call you?”

Doyoung frowns. “No, I just wanted you to.”

Just like that, Doyoung drops a wrecking ball against Jaehyun’s wall, dismantling it. “I—“

“You have such pretty hands,” Doyoung suddenly interrupts him. He’s very clearly trying to drive the conversation away from his one moment of weakness. He grabs Jaehyun’s cast with one hand and caresses his fingers with the other. “You shouldn’t go around punching walls with these porcelain princess hands.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Huh?” He tries to recall any instance in which he mentioned his aggressive mental breakdown to Doyoung, but he has no memories of it.

Doyoung smirks, but his eyes are still fixated on Jaehyun’s hands. “What? Do you think I’m stupid? I know a self-inflicted injury when I see one.”

Jaehyun rubs the spot between his eyebrows. “Please don’t tell my friends.”

Doyoung places Jaehyun’s hand on his lap with the utmost care, which makes the fake blond flush again. He’s sure the tips of his ears must be bright red by now. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“They’re worried about me, for some reason.”

“They should be,” Doyoung crosses his legs. He’s wearing loose jeans today, and his pale ankles are visible. Just like every other part of his body, they are graceful and perfectly proportioned, as well as bony. Jaehyun can only imagine how delicate they must feel to the touch. 

“Why do you say that?” Jaehyun replies, confused. His brain is perpetually fried and this conversation feels like it’s just going in circles. 

“Because you are spiralling, Jaehyun-ah,” Doyoung drops his hand on top of Jaehyun’s knee. “I enabled your behaviour the other day, and for that I am sorry. But I want to help you, that’s why I gave Johnny that paper.”

Jaehyun pinches the bridge of his nose. “So you want me to be your lab rat?”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I do? Or would you prefer it if I verbalized my true feelings?”

“Lab rat is fine,” Jaehyun immediately answers.

Doyoung lets out a chuckle. “Thought so,” he moves to stand up and leave, but he suddenly remembers something and turns to look at Jaehyun. He extends his hand, shoving it in Jaehyun’s face.

“What?” Jaehyun asks him, puzzled. “I don’t read minds.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, condescending as always. “Your phone, troglodyte. I’m not letting you escape me this time.”

Reluctantly, Jaehyun digs into his backpack and pulls out his outdated but still socially acceptable phone. The screen is cracked and the transparent case is slowly but surely turning a yellowish colour, but Jaehyun can’t afford a new one. 

He unlocks his phone before handing it to Doyoung, who takes it from his hand without hesitation before tapping rapidly and expertly. “There,” he says as he throws it on Jaehyun’s lap. “I saved my contact info, as well as texted myself to ensure I have your number.”

“Is it really that serious?” Jaehyun frowns as he tries to pick up his excessively big cellphone with only one hand.

“Why are you so surprised that I want to get to know you?”

Jaehyun looks up at Doyoung, his eyebrows raised impossibly high. “You hate me.”

Doyoung scoffs. “I don’t hate you. I won’t deny that I found you… irritating, for lack of a better word, at first. But you’re not who I thought you were.” He admits, avoiding the younger’s gaze.

Jaehyun is out of words. He’s about to open his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid when Doyoung decides to save him the embarrassment. 

“I’ll see you around,” he tells Jaehyun. “Don’t punch any walls without me.”

Jaehyun mocks his words as he walks away.

 

+++

 

**Kim Dongyoung, 22:35**

I have a surprise for you

  
**You, 22:35**

huh??

also, ‘dongyoung’?  


**Kim Dongyoung, 22:35**

Its my birth name but that is irrelevant right now

Come to my apartment

  
**You, 22:36**

Is this a booty call?  


**Kim Dongyoung, 22:38**

Sadly, it’s not

I said I have a surprise for you waiting in my apartment

  
**You, 22:40**

Doyoung hyung, it’s almost 11pm  


**Kim Dongyoung, 22:45**

Listen, do you want to keep walking around with that haycock on your head??

  
**You, 22:50**

Oh my god I cannot stand you

I’m on my way  


Jaehyun arrives at Doyoung’s apartment at 23:30. He presses Doyoung’s apartment’s button on the intercom, hoping that none of his neighbours are asleep yet (which is unlikely, considering it’s almost midnight). Doyoung greets him at the door of his apartment with a simple nod, closing the door behind him carefully as to not make much noise.

Inside, the apartment is a fucking mess. There are empty instant ramen cups littered all around the main room, as well as milk cartons and beer cans. Both the bed and the desk are covered in piles and piles of what look to be class notes, both handwritten and printed. The sheets look like they haven’t been changed in days and, from his spot in the living room, Jaehyun can spot a pile of dirty dishes that appears to be days old. There’s also a glass ashtray on the bed, filled with cigarette butts, threatening to spill all over the sheets.

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, astonished. “Doyoung hyung, what the hell is going on?”

“I’m going through my obligatory pre-exam week mental breakdown. I was hoping you’d be able to help me.” Doyoung is dressed in an Adidas tracksuit and his glasses are nowhere to be found. Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look this… casual.

“How can I be of help?” He asks, because he is genuinely worried about Doyoung, who looks like he hasn’t slept in a thousand years.

“I need to de-stress, so I thought: your hair.”

“My hair?”

“Yes,” he walks to his bed, where, among many other things, there’s a plain white plastic bag. He grabs it and silently hands it to Jaehyun. Inside, he discovers, there’s a bottle of baby pink hair dye.

“Hyung?” He really doesn’t know what else to say.

“Can I dye your hair pink?” Is all the other answers. “I’ve seen tutorials and it looks so relaxing.”

“Yeah, but it’s my hair!”

Doyoung has the indecency to actually pout, stepping closer to Jaehyun and playing with the sleeves of his jacket. “It will only last for a few weeks, and I know it will look really, really good on you. Like, exceptionally good.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Is that the only positive adjective you know?”

Doyoung shakes his head. “You would look ravishing, enchanting, stunning, bewitching, _fuckable_.”

Jaehyun lets out a scandalised gasp and slaps the other’s chest. “Doyoung hyung!”

Doyoung takes the opportunity to get a hold of Jaehyun’s hand and link their fingers. “Please, Jaehyun-ah. This is the only thing I will ever ask of you,” they both know that’s a lie. “Besides, I’m not doing this just for myself. What I said before, about you looking gorgeous in pink… I wasn’t lying.”

“Hyung,” Jaehyun whispers. His knees feel wobbly and his chest is hollow. He looks into Doyoung’s eyes, and at that moment he knows the older has won. There’s no way he can say no to him, not when he’s looking at Jaehyun like this, like he’s the most beautiful creature on this planet, like seeing him in pink would shift his entire world. “Okay,” he finally gives in. “Okay, you can dye my hair.”

Doyoung smiles and wraps both arms around Jaehyun’s waist before pressing an unexpected kiss on his cheek. Jaehyun wipes the spot where Doyoung’s lips had met his skin, feigning disgust. However, the pretty blush that reaches his ears gives away his true feelings.

“Come on,” Doyoung ushers him, grabbing the sleeves of his denim jacket. “We don’t have all night.”

 

Almost two hours later, Jaehyun finds himself sitting in front of his now tipsy acquaintance, watching him devour a kebab at the only restaurant they could find open at one in the morning. Doyoung has already downed two beers in the twenty minutes they’ve been here, but Jaehyun is too exhausted to worry about anyone but himself. 

He turns his head to stare at his own reflection in the glass. He looks like a cherry blossom that has been stepped on countless times. His neck is still bright pink from the dye, and there’s also a spot on his cheekbone from when Doyoung had tripped while holding the bottle of dye.

Once they’d finished rinsing his hair, Jaehyun had suggested they went out to get some fresh air, to which Doyoung had agreed on the condition that he was allowed to run his hands through Jaehyun’s hair whenever. 

“Do you always resort to alcoholism when you’re stressed?” Jaehyun asks Doyoung after he hears him ask for his third beer of the night. 

“Among other things,” Doyoung shamelessly admits. “I also binge-watch reality shows or take cold showers,” he goes to take another bite when he suddenly remembers something else. “Oh, and I used to self-harm, but that’s in the past.”

Jaehyun feels the room temperature drop to negatives. “What?” After Doyoung’s silence, he repeats himself. “Hyung, what did you say?”

“It’s nothing,” Doyoung mutters, stuffing his mouth with the kebab. 

“Doyo—“

“Drop it,” he cuts Jaehyun off. His voice is sharp and cold like a stalactite, and it falls on Jaehyun’s head, piercing through his body and settling in his spine. He feels cold, colder than he ever has. He’s frozen in his seat, his own meal forgotten. All his limbs are seized, his joints locked in place. 

Doyoung continues eating silently. His face is expressionless, but Jaehyun can see under his expertly designed façade. It’s the same mask he wore during that disastrous ramyun dinner, and it’s one Jaehyun recognises immediately because he’s worn it himself. Under his impassive eyes, Jaehyun can see years, perhaps even decades, of pain and torment. Pain that someone like Doyoung, or anyone for that matter, should have never gone through. Perhaps to anyone else it’s hard to discern, but under Jaehyun’s experienced gaze, it’s obvious that Doyoung’s wounds are much deeper than physical. He’s always seen him as this constant and stable presence, but the fact is that Doyoung was probably the more damaged out of the two of them.

Doyoung lifts his eyes from his food to stare at Jaehyun, who hasn’t moved in almost ten minutes. His eyes fall on Jaehyun’s healthy hand, covered in the greasy sauce from his kebab. It’s running down his forearm, drawing a thin, white line from his pinky to his wrist.

“Look at the mess you’re making,” he says, before reaching out and grabbing Jaehyun’s wrist. He holds it up to his face and, to Jaehyun’s astoundment, starts licking up his arm. His tongue is pink and velvety on Jaehyun’s thin skin, but it burns like a branding iron. Jaehyun stares in disbelief as Doyoung traces a stripe with the tip of his tongue up to his knuckles. He then wraps his mouth around Jaehyun’s index and middle fingers, hollowing his cheeks. His lips are pink and tender, and his deadly tongue peaks in between Jaehyun’s long fingers, teasing him. He lets go of the younger’s hand with an obnoxious pop, wiping the excess saliva on the corner of his mouth with his thumb. It’s the most erotic sight Jaehyun has ever had the pleasure and honor of witnessing. 

“There, all cleaned up,” he says, as if what had just transpired was the most ordinary thing in the world. “Shall we go? It’s getting late.” 

Doyoung stands up, pushing his chair back with his feet. He’s so chaotic and bizzarre today, Jaehyun notices, and it’s driving him insane. 

“Jaehyun-ah,” Doyoung calls him. He’s already holding the door open. “Are you just going to stay there for the rest of your peachy life?”

Jaehyun scrambles to his feat clumsily. “Yeah, sorry. Let’s go home.”

 

He wakes up to the sound of violent knocking. Lifting himself up on his elbows, Jaehyun stares at the door from Doyoung’s bed. 

“Doyoung!” The person outside must be bleeding from their knuckles, he thinks, just from how hard they’re pounding the door. “Hyung, please!”

It’s the ‘hyung’ that alerts Jaehyun. He looks to his right, where Doyoung is sleeping soundly, exhausted from his neurosis that had ended just a few hours ago. Jaehyun doesn’t want to wake him, because he knows that he needs to rest. He’s probably been studying for 48 hours straight, which led him to lose control for a little while and do things that Jaehyun doesn’t ever want to mention again. They stayed up wandering around the city so late that Jaehyun had to stay at Doyoung’s place because the metro had closed. But the person outside is insistent, and they sound so distressed that Jaehyun can’t help but place a hand on Doyoung’s bony shoulder and shake him ever so slightly. 

“Hyung,” he whispers in his ear. The elder has his back to him, so in order to talk to him Jaehyun needs to press his chest to Doyoung’s body. “Hyung, someone’s calling you.”

Doyoung stirs. “What?” He mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.

The individual outside hammers on the door. Seriously, Jaehyun is worried about the well-being of their hands. 

“Hyung!” They sob. “Please!”

Doyoung bolts awake. “Holy fuck,” he breathes out. “Holy shit,” he starts panicking as he runs to the door. 

Jaehyun is completely conscious now. “What’s going on?” He feels on edge, like something grand—but not necessarily good—is going to happen.

Doyoung opens the door. Outside stands a boy, still in his high school uniform, holding a gym bag and a backpack. His looks are angelic, and the tears on his cheeks shine like diamonds. His hair is pearly white, and it frames his face like a marble carcass. 

As soon as he spots Doyoung, he drops his bags and throws himself in the taller man’s arms, letting out heart-wrenching wails. Jaehyun stands up, not knowing what to do with himself. 

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung’s voice is broken. “What did you do?”

The kid —Jungwoo—pulls away from Doyoung’s chest to stare at him. His eyes are puffy and red, and his lips are swollen and wet with spit, but he’s probably one of the most beautiful people Jaehyun’s ever seen. 

“Hyung, I told them,” he says in between hiccups. “I told them and I left.”

“What did you tell them?” Doyoung’s voice is soaked in concerned. 

“That I’m gay, like you.”

Jaehyun has never felt more like an intruder. He feels as if he’s witnessing a very private moment between two people with more history in between them than he’s ever had with anyone. He wants to leave, but he doesn’t dare speak up. 

“Woo…” Doyoung caresses the younger’s face, wiping his tears away. His motions are impossibly gentle, and he touches Jungwoo like the boy is made of porcelain. “Sit down. I’ll make us some coffee,” he turns around to find Jaehyun standing there, like a senseless robot. “Oh, this is my friend. His name is Jaehyun, and you can trust him.”

Jungwoo nods and contorts his face into a tired smile. “Hi,” he lets out in a tiny voice. 

Jaehyun blinks, pulling himself out of the mental block he’d been caught in. “H-hello,” he moves away from the bed. “Come, sit here.”

Doyoung makes coffee for all three of them. It’s almost six in the morning, and the sun is starting to rise. The sky is a colourful mixture of tones, from red to blue, with shades of purple splattered in between the clouds. Jungwoo has calmed down, but he still looks pretty shaken. He holds his mug with two elegant and healthy hands, most definitely to avoid dropping it due to the shaking of his limbs. 

“I left a note,” Jungwoo suddenly speaks up. His voice is surprisingly steady. 

Doyoung frowns. “What?”

“I… I didn’t want to face them, hyung. I was scared of them, terrified that they would do to me what they did to you.”

Doyoung gulps. His Adam’s apple is very prominent and it moves almost hypnotically with every word that leaves his lips.

“What do you mean you left a note?” He speaks very slowly, enunciating every word perfectly. A shiver runs down Jaehyun’s spine.

Jungwoo avoids their gazes, looking down. “I wrote a note where I confessed my true identity, left it on my bed, and hopped on a train.”

“When did you do this?”

“Last night.”

Doyoung strikes Jungwoo across his face. The sound of the slap resonates through the modest apartment, cutting the air as sharply as if it were a katana. Jungwoo makes no sound of response. Instead, he rubs his reddened cheek with the palm of his hand.

“You,” Doyoung is so agitated he can barely speak. “You fucking idiot, you took a train from that haunted town to Seoul during the night? Do you know what could have happened to you?!” He’s yelling and on the verge of tears. “Something much worse than what Mother and Father could have put you through! There are rapists and murderers out there waiting for stupid school boys like you to fall at their feet!”

Jungwoo takes every brutal word coming from Doyoung’s lips like they’re nothing. He doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even blink. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry for making you remember,” he clarifies.

Doyoung exhales shakily and closes his eyes. He’s clenching his jaw so strongly that Jaehyun fears his teeth might break. “Yes, you should be,” he stands up from his seat next to Jungwoo on the bed. “Get some sleep,” he tell his younger brother. “We’ll talk once you’re well rested.”

Jungwoo nods obediently. He hands Doyoung his empty coffee mug and lies down on the bed, burying himself under the covers. 

He falls asleep in less than ten minutes, his breathing evening out and his features softening. Doyoung lights a cigarette and takes what has to be the longest drag in history, puffing it out after holding it in for almost a minute. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, right next to his brother. With his free hand, he strokes Jungwoo’s glass skin. Eventually, he bends down to press a feathery kiss on the kid’s forehead, running his fingers through the other’s blonde hair. After a few minutes of loving touches, his cigarette dies out. He stands up to throw it into the already full ashtray, and Jaehyun can tell that it’s time for him to leave. 

“I should go,” he speaks in a low voice to avoid waking up Jungwoo.

Doyoung exhales. “Yeah, it’s so late it’s early.”

He walks Jaehyun to the door, even though it’s barely five steps away from the bed. Once outside, Jaehyun turns to take one last look at his friend. There’s something he needs to ask, no matter how much he fears the consequences. 

“Hyung,” he calls Doyoung’s attention. “The reason why Jungwoo ran away from home… Is it the same reason why you used to—to hurt yourself?”

Doyoung gives him a tired look. There are years of exhaustion behind his young eyes, with which he looks at Jaehyun fondly despite his daring question. “If I said yes, would you drop the subject?”

Jaehyun doesn’t want to lie. “For the time being, yes.”

Doyoung seems satisfied enough with the answer. “Goodnight, Jaehyun-ah.”

Jaehyun gives him a kind smile. “Goodnight, hyung.”

 

As he walks into his dorm building, he sees Taeyong storm out. His face is red and damp and his eyes are swollen from crying. He’s also sporting a couple of dark purple bruises on his neck. He spots Jaehyun and stops on his tracks to stare at him and, without saying a word, he shakes his head in disapproval and walks away from him. 

As he tucks himself in bed and prepares to skip another full day of classes, Jaehyun ponders on the fact that most people’s lives are just a disastrous as his.

+++

Jaehyun doesn’t see Doyoung for weeks after the ‘Jungwoo incident’, as he’s decided to name it. He’s too intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation to call him, and he’s also aware that his friend is probably preoccupied dealing with, well, the ‘Jungwoo incident’ right now.

And so he busies himself with schoolwork, not because he wants to improve his grades, but because he has nothing better to do. His friends are, coincidentally, going through a rough patch as well. It most definitely has to do with the fact that Taeyong and Yuta slept together and refuse to admit it or talk about what went wrong, so at the moment they’re all stuck in a loop of awkward silences and stolen glances. The only one who appears to be living a somewhat socially acceptable life is Johnny, who’s still going strong with his boyfriend and is passing every class with excellent grades. Jaehyun is certain he doesn’t ever sleep, by the way his left eye twitches and he tends to trip on air, but he decided long ago not to comment on Johnny’s unhealthy habits. It’s not like he’s any better, anyways. 

He’s on the school’s gardens, trying to finish the same book he has been reading for a month. The weather today is absurdly nice, in a Disney movie kind of way. The birds are chirping, the sky is blue, and the flowers are in bloom. There’s a soft breeze that, every once in a while, flips his pages and ruffles his pink hair. He tries to brush it with his fingers, but it’s so dry that it tangles in itself just by looking at it. 

From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Yuta, who is stomping his way to his only afternoon class, his brand new orange hair flopping angrily. He’s been giving Jaehyun the silent treatment for a while, choosing to reply to him with monosyllables or head gestures instead of actual answers. Jaehyun doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he’s starting to suspect that it has less to do with him and more with the situation with Taeyong.

Jaehyun watches as Yuta disappears inside the Law faculty, walking through its fancy gates. His eyes return to the book, but his mind stays with his friend.

+++

It’s actually at the Law faculty that he sees Doyoung again. He’s on his way to return a book on Roman Law written in Japanese that he doesn’t think he could understand even if it were in Korean or English. He and Yuta sort of, kind of made up a few days before. With that he means that they ignored the issue completely and decided to pretend that their silent argument hadn’t even happened at all. They’re healthy like that.

He walks inside the huge building, feeling like he’s on a different planet. This faculty is completely different from the Economics one. It’s bigger, fancier and more spacious. The ceilings are ridiculously high and the hallways and common rooms are vast and ample. They have their own library and cafeteria, as well as mock courtrooms.

He and Yuta agreed to meet near the entrance, since the chances of Jaehyun getting lost in this maze they called faculty without his friend were next to 100%. What he was not expecting, however, was to find Doyoung, instead of Yuta, standing in the hall, resting his back against the stone wall. It looks like he’s waiting for someone, by the way he keeps searching for a face in the crowd. Nonetheless, Jaehyun decides to approach him.

“Doyoung hyung!” Jaehyun calls him by his name. He hasn’t said it aloud in a while, and the familiarity of it on his tongue makes his stomach shrivel up and the tips of his fingers tingle.

Doyoung’s head snaps up at the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, and his face breaks in a genuine but tired smile. In all honesty, he looks terrible, enough to make his younger friend worry. His eyes lack their usual spark and his hair is dry and flat. He’s not wearing his glasses, which means he has to squint in order to spot Jaehyun walking towards him. 

“Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung greets him softly. The characteristic sharpness is missing in his voice, instead replaced by exhaustion. 

“What are you doing here?” Jaehyun inquires.

Doyoung lets out a long and slow breath. “I need a lawyer,” he explains.

Jaehyun frowns. “You do know that everyone here is a student, right? There are no real lawyers.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he gives Jaehyun a fond look. There’s something else in his gaze, like longing, but Jaehyun can’t pinpoint it. “Who do you think teaches the lawyers, Jaehyun-ah? Economists, doctors?”

“Uhm. I guess you’ve got a point.”

“Don’t I always?” And with that, he’s back to his usual self, the snarky and condescending twenty something-year-old guy Jaehyun’s grown to care for.

“I guess you do,” he replies, because it’s true. There haven’t been many instances in which Doyoung wasn’t right ever since Jaehyun met him. “Hyung,” he speaks up, calling the other’s attention. He’s almost too shy to ask this question, because he suspects what the answer is going to be, but he still feels the need to show his interest. “Can I ask you why you need a lawyer?”

Doyoung scratches his forehead. “I want to obtain full custody of Jungwoo,” he confesses bluntly, like it’s not that serious of a topic. “But I already know our parents are going to fight for it, and even if Jungwoo testifies against them the judge could still fuck us over.” Today, it seems Doyoung is not as careful with his words as usual. Jaehyun is so used to his rhetorical and convoluted speech that he finds it difficult to link this Doyoung to the one in his mind and memories. 

Jaehyun has always been almost physically unable to voice his emotions, but this time he feels like he owes it to his friend. “Are you sure you can endure all the troubles that will come with a custody battle? They can get pretty nasty.”

Doyoung raises his right eyebrow. He’s looking at Jaehyun the way he used to back when they first met, like he was dog shit on his shoe. “You would know,” he spits. Jaehyun wants to think that he doesn’t mean it, but the words still hurt like a stab wound.

“I would,” he simply answers. It’s more than enough. Doyoung’s expression immediately softens, his sour eyes shifting to regret.

“Jaehyun—“

“It’s okay,” he cuts Doyoung off. If he can keep his traumatic past a secret then so can Jaehyun. 

Doyoung clenches his jaw, but he remains silent. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jaehyun spies Yuta walking down the stairs. Saved by the Japanese bell.

“It was nice talking to you, hyung,” he pats Doyoung’s bicep and starts to walk away from him. “We should meet and catch up. See you!” Jaehyun waves at him and leaves before the other can say anything.

 

Yuta takes Jaehyun to a takoyaki restaurant in downtown Seoul. The Japanese student is in a surprisingly good mood that evening, specially compared to the gloominess of the past month. Jaehyun is almost too afraid to ask, but he has to know.

“So, you and Taeyong hyung—“

“Oh my God, Jung Jaehyun,” Yuta interrupts him immediately. “Stop shoving your perfectly proportioned nose in other people’s business.”

Jaehyun stabs one of his takoyaki a tad bit too aggressively. He's getting tired of his elders treating him so rudely. “I’m just showing my concern for you and your well-being, Yuta hyung.”

Yuta takes one large gulp of beer. He hasn’t looked at Jaehyun in the eyes the entire evening. “I’m fine and he is also doing well. That’s all you need to know,” his last sentence has enough finality to it that Jaehyun understands that continuing to prod could result in his death.

As they pay for their meal and Yuta converses in fast-paced Kansai dialect with the owner, Jaehyun’s semi-functional senile phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He doesn’t become too excited, though, since it could be literally anything, like when it starts turning the ringer on and off randomly.

This time, however, it’s a call. From Doyoung.

He picks up tentatively, pressing the device to his ear almost in slow motion. 

“Hello?” 

“Jaehyunnie, hi,” it’s Doyoung’s voice, of course. Jaehyun would recognise it anywhere. “Can we talk?”

Jaehyun’s eyes find Yuta’s, who looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Uhm, we talked a few hours ago, hyung.”

Doyoung chuckles. “Yeah, but I would like to apologize in person and also… I need a favor.” 

Jaehyun frowns, playing with his bottom lip nervously, pinching it with his fingers. “Apologize? Favor? I don’t—“

“Meet me at that kebab place we went to in an hour.”

“But it’s almost ten—” His phone lets out a prolonged and strong beep to signal that Doyoung has just hung up. Jaehyun lets out a frustrated grunt and violently shoves his phone in his pocket. “Fucking bossy, headstrong, impatient dumbass.”

Yuta pulls him out of the restaurant by wrapping his hand around Jaehyun’s wrist. “Everything okay, loverboy?” He asks once they’re outside. His tone is playful and teasing, and he’s obviously looking to ignite the already flammable Jaehyun.

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun shakes off his friend’s arm.

“Oh, please,” Yuta starts walking towards the metro station. His orange hair dances on his head thanks to the wind. They must look ridiculous walking around with their bright and colourful scalps, Jaehyun thinks. “It’s obvious that you and that Doyoung guy have something going on,” Yuta playfully knocks his hips against Jaehyun’s. 

Jaehyun shakes his hands almost violently. “No, no! It’s not like that!” He denies, his voice loud enough to make some bystanders turn their heads to stare at them. “We’re not like that.”

Yuta smirks, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe a single word that comes out of Jaehyun’s lips. 

 

Despite the fact that it’s past eleven, the kebab restaurant is, as expected, still open. Doyoung is at the farthest corner from the door. Jaehyun walks towards him at a steady pace, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way Doyoung’s eyes follow the sway of his hips. What is that about?

“I’m here,” he speaks as he takes a seat in front of his friend. Doyoung has ordered falafel with hummus, and Jaehyun stretches out a bold hand to grab a piece. He chews on it silently, but Doyoung doesn’t speak up either. Instead, he stares at Jaehyun as he eats, resting his chin on his intertwined hands. “What?” Jaehyun mumbles with his mouth full of falafel. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

After Jaehyun’s words, Doyoung blinks a couple of times, as if pulling himself out of a trance. He clears his throat and scratches the top of his head. His cheeks have turned a healthy shade of red. “Sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” he rubs his eyes, slipping his fingers under his fancy glasses. 

“So,” Jaehyun finally says after swallowing an entire piece of falafel. “You wanted to talk.”

Doyoung nods, but his gaze adverts Jaehyun’s. “Yes, I did. I-I wanted to apologise for what I said this morning. It wasn’t my intention to diminish your feelings and experiences, but I did and for that I am sorry.”

He’s back to his 19th Century way of speaking, but behind his perfectly composed façade, Jaehyun can see Doyoung’s real, insecure self. His mask has cracks, but they are only visible to those who know to look for them, and Jaehyun likes to consider himself one of those few lucky people.

“Hyung,” Jaehyun slaps his hand on top of Doyoung’s. It’s healthier than the last time. All fingernails shine with transparent polish. “It’s okay, really. You had no way of knowing about my past.”

Doyoung turns his hand so that their palms can meet, then wraps his thin and bony fingers around Jaehyun’s, caressing the back of his hand with the tips of his fingers. The gesture is incredibly intimate, and it makes Jaehyun’s skin tingle and his stomach contracts itself with anticipation. For a moment, he almost wishes that Doyoung would also press his heart-shaped lips to Jaehyun’s knuckles. 

“I’m sorry that I am the way I am, Jaehyun,” Doyoung confesses, his voice serious and solemn. There are many layers to everything that comes out of Doyoung’s pretty lips, and even this concise statement is no exception. Jaehyun may be austere with his own words, but he’s good at identifying the true meaning that hides behind the ornaments that flood Doyoung’s speech. This time, he has chosen simplicity over complexity, partly because he wants to be honest, but mostly to avoid giving more information than he’s comfortable with.

“I love the way you are,” Jaehyun professes, blushing immediately after, mortified at his own bluntness. Doyoung smiles fondly and his grip on Jaehyun’s hand tightens. 

“You’ve shared so much with me and all I do is hide from you…” Doyoung thinks aloud. His eyes are unfocused and they glisten with unvoiced thoughts. “But I still don’t think I’m ready, Jaehyun-ah. I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun squeezes the other’s hand, rubbing the knuckles with his thumb. “As long as you share your present with me, I think I can consider myself lucky. And if possible, your future as well.”

Doyoung snorts. “Possibly,” he extends one arm and brushes Jaehyun’s bangs. “Now that we’re talking about the future, maybe you should consider taking a trip to the hair salon.”

“Meaning, your house?”

Doyoung punches him with little to no force. He makes a cute expression, biting his lower lip with his front teeth, and it makes him look like a bunny. 

They eat in silence for a while after that, until Jaehyun remembers the reason they’re here in the first place.

“Hyung,” he calls Doyoung’s attention. “You mentioned something about a favor on the phone?”

Doyoung swallows his bite with difficulty. Jaehyun stares as his protruding Adam’s apple ascends and descends almost rhythmically. “Yeah,” he responds, blushing ever so slightly. “About that. The social worker agreed to let Jungwoo stay with me until the trial.”

Jaehyun feels his heart contract in his chest. “Oh my God, hyung. That’s amazing!”

Doyoung smiles warmly. He somehow looks less tired now than he did this morning, perhaps thanks to the good news. “There’s this issue, however. You see, I can’t force Jungwoo to live in that dumpster I have the nerve to call an apartment. He needs a comfortable home where he can have his personal space and focus on his studies. But…” He fidgets with a strand of jet black hair. “I can’t afford that. I’m already working two jobs and I can barely make it to the end of the month. However,” he looks up to stare directly into Jaehyun’s eyes with his black ones. “If someone else were to live with us, and they also contributed in, well, paying for utilities and such…”

Jaehyun gapes at his friend, his jaw slack and eyes blown wide. “Doyoung hyung, are you—“

“Yes, Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung admits before Jaehyun has even finished his sentence. “I’m asking you to come live with us. Only if you want, of course. I know dorms can be… problematic, at best. I believe you would live more comfortably in an apartment, with people you know aren’t going to engage in sexual acts in the hallways.”

“Really?” Jaehyun smirks. “I thought someone like you would be into that.”

Doyoung kicks his shin under the table. “Don’t be an idiot,” he warns, but there’s no real threat in his voice. “I’m being serious.”

The truth is, Jaehyun doesn’t know what to do now. The idea of living in his own place, far away from the mess of his university’s dorms as well as his friends’ mothering tendencies is very appealing. Just thinking about a private shower and kitchen is making him drool. 

“Listen, if it makes you uncomfortable—”

“Okay,” Jaehyun lets out without warning, surprising even himself. “Okay,” he repeats, processing his own words. “I’ll move in with you.”

Doyoung’s gaze is fixed on Jaehyun’s face. For almost a minute, he doesn’t move, blink or speak. Jaehyun fears his spontaneity might have broken something inside his obsessively perfectionist friend.

“Just like that?” He asks, voice high-pitched. 

Jaehyun shrugs. “Just like that. It’s not like I’m very emotionally attached to the university’s dorms.”

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose. “There’s more to independence than living on your own. You’ll need a job, insurance—“

“Hyung,” Jaehyun leans forward and takes Doyoung’s face with both of his hands, squishing it. “You need to stop worrying and start living. I’ll look for a job while you try to find us an apartment, and then we’ll figure the rest out when the time comes, okay?”

Doyoung lets out a shaky breath as he locks his fingers around Jaehyun’s wrists. “Okay.”

+++

“Oh my God, will Taeyong give it a rest?” Jaehyun complains aloud, turning off his phone and shoving it into his sports bag. He’s in the middle of getting dressed after a particularly frustrating swim practice and Taeyong’s incessant calling is not helping in alleviating his impending headache.

This is partially his fault, as usual, for sharing the news about his move in a simple text in their groupchat. While Johnny replied with a “nice” and Yuta with a series of random emojis, Taeyong chose the mother route: he’s been calling Jaehyun for two full hours. 

As Jaehyun bends down to tie his shoelaces, his spine cracks in multiple places. He lets out a surprised grunt and starts to stretch. Now that finals are coming up, he’s been hunched over his text books for the entire week. He’s seen the librarian on the Economics floor more times in a month than he’s seen his mother in years. 

He throws his denim jacket on before grabbing his bag and hanging it from his shoulder. His muscles cry out in pain from exertion and Jaehyun lets out a little whine. All he can think about is crashing on his ridiculously uncomfortable twin bed and passing out for the rest of weekend.

The only good thing about training on Saturday afternoons, Jaehyun thinks as he walks out of the swimming pool building and watches splashes of orange appear on the darkening blue sky, is that he can always use his exhaustion from training as an excuse not to go out during the night. 

“Jaehyunnie,” someone calls his name to his right, and he jumps in surprise. 

It’s Doyoung, standing in all his older college student glory, smoking one of his minty cigarettes. He’s wearing loose-fitting dark blue pants with a belt wrapped tightly around his waist, accentuating his slim torso. His shirt, made of linen, is white and sheer, and the sleeves are rolled up, exposing his veiny arms and bony wrists. 

Next to him stands Jungwoo, wearing a much more sporty outfit. It’s the first time Jaehyun has seen him since the ‘incident’, and he looks much healthier. He’s as heavenly beautiful as Jaehyun remembers, and the innocence has returned to his previously excessively mature features. Jaehyun is happy to see that Jungwoo can finally live freely and enjoy his youth without having to worry about being rejected by his own caretakers. 

“The Kim brothers,” Jaehyun smiles as he watches the two approach him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jungwoo blushes brightly and avoids looking at Jaehyun, which makes the older two snicker. 

“We were wondering if you’d like to spend the evening with us,” Doyoung explains, brushing his hair out of his face with one elegant hand. “Since we’re welcoming you into our modest but warm family.”

Jaehyun smiles widely, flashing his dimples. “What kind of evening did you have in mind?”

Doyoung gives him a gummy smile in return. “Now that the weather is nicer, Jungwoo has been craving some ice cream, hasn’t he?” He teases his little brother, shoving him playfully. Jungwoo slaps his arm in response, turning even redder.

“Ice cream sounds delicious right now,” Jaehyun agrees. He’s sure his lactose intolerant stomach is letting out all sorts of expletives, but he simply cannot picture himself turning down any offers from Doyoung. 

“Great,” Doyoung winks at him. He looks younger today, Jaehyun notices, even next to his pubescent brother. It’s almost as if he’s lighter, like he has decided to put away all his worries for a while in favor of enjoying the evening. Jaehyun can’t help but admire him for it.

 

They end up getting ice cream at a popular shop in the city centre. It’s the first time Jaehyun has had ice cream since the previous summer, so he decides to go all out and get multiple flavours. Doyoung, however, chooses only mint chocolate. 

“Seriously?” Jaehyun jokes as he watches Doyoung suggestively lick the melted ice cream running down his fingers with disobedient eyes. 

Doyoung sticks his tongue out. “What? I like mint, is it a crime?” 

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight a little smile. One of his favourite things about Doyoung is his tendency to always follow the same routines almost unintentionally. Jaehyun loves how he always starts his meals by eating from the plates closer to his right side, how he always slaps the bottom of his pack of cigarettes before pulling out one, how he always flips the pages on a book with his ring and middle fingers.

As they finish their ice creams, Jungwoo suggests they take a walk along the Han river, to which Doyoung immediately agrees. It’s becoming more and more obvious that the younger Kim has the older one wrapped around his little finger, something Jaehyun could have never guessed when he first met Doyoung. He had seemed so cold and unforgiving, like an icy prince—above everyone and everything else—, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Doyoung is possibly the best person Jaehyun has ever met. Sure, he is condescending, patronizing and a bit egotistical, but he is willing to drop everything and start a legal battle with his parents to ensure his brother’s wellbeing, and at the same time has offered walking-mess Jaehyun a place to stay. 

It is already dark when they reach the promenade. The street-lights illuminate the path with a warm shade of yellow, and the river sparkles, reflecting the moonlight. Jaehyun and Doyoung walk side by side, chatting about nothing and everything. Jungwoo runs around them, pointing at things excitedly as if he were ten and not sixteen. Jaehyun can tell that he’s holding onto a childhood that had been taken away from him. 

The water is not the only thing that sparkles, however. Doyoung’s skin, pale but firm and healthy, shines under the dim starlight. He’s wearing a discreet highlighter that accentuates his delicate cheekbones, and the top of his shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his prominent clavicles. Jaehyun can also spot a thin silver chain wrapped around his neck, something he’d never noticed before.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Jaehyun takes Doyoung’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers. Doyoung gives him a surprised look, but he doesn’t let go, instead grabbing Jaehyun’s elbow with his free hand.

“Jaehyunnie…” His tone is a bit melancholic and regretful.

Jaehyun refuses to look at him, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment. “Indulge me, please. Just this one time.” 

Doyoung’s free hand stays around Jaehyun’s forearm, caressing the sensitive skin on the inside of his arm. His nails rake up, sending electric currents all through Jaehyun’s body. 

“Indulging you is indulging myself, Jaehyun-ah,” Doyoung admits aloud. “But I’ve always been more of a condemned soul.”

Jaehyun finally turns his head to look at the other man, who stares straight into his eyes. “Maybe it’s time you learn to venerate yourself.”

Doyoung lets out a soft laugh. His cheeks and neck have turned a healthy shade of pink. “Maybe it’s time we both do, Mister Wall-Puncher.”

Jaehyun elbows Doyoung playfully. “Hey! That was a moment of weakness, okay?” Almost unconsciously, he lifts his healed hand for Doyoung to see, spreading and flexing his fingers. 

“Hyung, have you seen—” Upon noticing his brother and Jaehyun’s linked hands, Jungwoo shuts his mouth abruptly. He raises his eyebrows, which makes him look so much like Doyoung that Jaehyun almost shivers, and then shrugs before turning around and running off again. Doyoung is the first to react, letting out a loud snort. Jaehyun joins him instantly, holding his belly as he doubles over in laughter. 

In between them, their hands remain joined.

+++

Finals week is approaching, and the tension in their university is so palpable that one could cut the air with a knife. Jaehyun hasn’t even contemplated opening a text-book yet, so while his friends bury themselves in schoolwork, he takes three hour long naps.

He’s in the middle of one when his phone starts ringing loudly next to his head. He jumps awake, startled and disoriented, but he manages to find the phone on his bed and press it to his ear.

“Hello?” He grunts.

“Jaehyunnie.” It’s Doyoung. His voice is strained and panicked, which immediately alerts Jaehyun. He rubs his eyes and sits up completely, forcing himself to sober up. 

“What’s wrong, hyung?” His voice is soft but heavy with concern. 

“I decided to take a break from studying by looking at possible apartments but it’s just made me all the more anxious,” Jaehyun can hear him lighting a cigarette from the other end of the phone. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We still have time, don’t worry.”

“We don’t,” Doyoung gasps, on the verge of tears. “The social worker informed me that if I don’t find a place suitable for Jungwoo’s needs before the end of the month he will be taken back to my parents’ house,” he pauses to take a drag. “He can’t go back, Jaehyun. I can’t let him return to that hell hole.”

“Why don’t you come over?” Jaehyun suggests before thinking. “Get out of your apartment for a while. I’ll even let you smoke in here.”

“Okay,” Doyoung sobs, hanging up without another word.

 

Jaehyun doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Doyoung in basketball pants and an oversized hoodie that reads “SNU”. He looks at Jaehyun with sad, exhausted eyes and that’s all it takes for him to wrap his arms around the elder’s skinny torso. He buries his face in the crook of Doyoung’s neck, taking in his minty scent. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Doyoung hyung,” he whispers words of comfort into his friend’s ear. They may seem empty and shallow, but he doesn’t know enough about Doyoung’s backstory to say anything more precise. “I’ll help you find the apartment. I’ll stay up all night if I have to.”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung mutters his name. He digs his fingers into Jaehyun’s hair, scratching his scalp in hypnotic circles. “Thank you,” he presses a feather kiss to the younger’s neck as his nails rub the nape. “I’m 24,” he suddenly confesses. “I’m a postgrad student.”

Jaehyun snorts, pulling away to look into Doyoung’s eyes. “Okay,” he laughs. “Why the sudden burst of sincerity?”

Doyoung pulls him close again. “I wanted you to know some truths about me,” he mutters as he starts toying with the loose strands on the back of Jaehyun’s old sweater. 

Jaehyun smiles warmly. “Thank you for sharing such personal and meaningful details of your life with me, hyung,” he teases him.

Doyoung pinches Jaehyun’s back, and he lets out a little squeak. “Be respectful, brat.” Finally, he pushes Jaehyun away, inviting himself into the claustrophobic room. “Wow, and I thought my living conditions were precarious.” He drops himself on the bed unceremoniously, kicking off his shoes in a careless manner Jaehyun had never seen him show before. “Jaehyun-ah, let’s nap. We can worry about apartments later.” 

Jaehyun lets out a childish whine, but he obliges nonetheless. He always obliges when it comes to Doyoung.

He rests his body next to his friend’s on the tiny bed, not knowing what to do with his limbs. 

“Lay on your side,” Doyoung commands all of a sudden. 

“Why?” Jaehyun is genuinely curious as to where Doyoung’s order was coming from.

“Just do it, punk,” is all he answers. Jaehyun, who has proven to be almost physically unable to deny Doyoung’s requests, does as he's told. Almost immediately, he feels a skinny arm snake around his waist, coming to rest on his belly. One of Doyoung’s legs finds its way in between Jaehyun’s, and the insides of their thighs brush against each other. 

Doyoung presses his forehead to the back of Jaehyun’s head, and his breath tickles his nape. Jaehyun scoots back, pressing his body against Doyoung’s. Ever since that late night walk along the river, he’s been feeling more and more shameless. He takes as much as he believes Doyoung is able to give, not wanting to push him out of his comfort zone but, at the same time, not allowing him to hide behind one of his numerous masks.

“Sweet dreams, Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung whispers before falling asleep.

“I hope they’re mint-flavoured,” is his reply.

+++

Somehow, Jaehyun manages to pass all his exams, which means his summer is entirely free.

He and Doyoung find an adequate apartment a little bit farther from the city centre than the previous one was, but the price is unbeatable and the size is ideal. It only has two bedrooms and, for some reason, Jaehyun had assumed that it would be him and Doyoung who would be sharing a bedroom. So when he sees his friend piling his boxes in the same room as his younger brother, Jaehyun can’t help but feel an ounce of disappointment mixed with a ton of shame. He shakes it off rapidly, convincing himself that it was the most logical decision for brothers to share the same room, but it doesn’t make his bed feel less empty. 

He dreams of Doyoung’s breath on his neck and his hands on his body. He craves his warmth even during the scorching summer nights. Jaehyun can’t seem to forget the feeling of Doyoung’s sleeping form pressed to his, the minty smell of his hair, the way his chest expanded and compressed with every breath, the weight of his leg in between Jaehyun’s… 

He tries to mitigate those thoughts as best as he can. 

Both Doyoung and Jaehyun find summer jobs. Doyoung never explains what it is that he does—as per usual—, but Jaehyun is hired by a small and modest bookshop in their neighbourhood. For the first time in years, he picks up the habit of reading, which stimulates his bookworm soul to write again. It’s been so long since he’s written anything other than essays on the economy’s fluctuations that it feels almost foreign, alien to open a Word document. He types and types, writes thousands of words about nothing and everything and, after years of emptiness, his heart finally feels full.

He shows Doyoung most of his writing, even when his presence in it is so palpable that he can almost smell the minty scent through the screen. Doyoung praises him, but he also corrects his mistakes. Jaehyun appreciates his honesty more than he would ever appreciate blind support. 

Jaehyun doesn’t call his mother. She harasses him about his grades and his new address, but he shows her neither. Eventually, she gets the message and stops bothering him.

 

It’s a breezy summer night when the truth about Doyoung’s past starts becoming clear. Jungwoo has fallen asleep on the couch. Jaehyun is writing in his room, the window is wide open and the blinds are drawn. He’s lying on his belly, his feet up in the air, as he goes over the last short story he’s written. Suddenly, he hears the front door shut very gently. Doyoung’s muffled voice comes from the living room: he’s scolding Jungwoo for falling asleep in the living room instead of their own room, albeit lovingly. After that, it’s just two sets of footsteps, which Jaehyun can now tell apart. Where Jungwoo is light and feathery, Doyoung is firm and dominant. 

His best friend’s steps stop at his door, which he knocks on thrice. Jaehyun lets out a soft “come in” before sitting up and making room for Doyoung on the bed. He sits at the end of the mattress, resting all his weight on one of his slender arms.

“What are you writing?” Doyoung asks. There’s an envelope in his hand, and Jaehyun doesn’t fail to notice the government’s symbol on it.

Jaehyun scoots closer to Doyoung, resting his head on the other’s bony shoulder. It should be uncomfortable, but Jaehyun is starting to realise his body was made to fit Doyoung’s in every way.

“Nothing much,” he replies. “Just some brainstorming. What is that?” He points to the letter, going straight to the point. Tonight, he’s not in the mood to play cat-and-mouse.

Doyoung sighs as he hands Jaehyun the envelope. It’s open, which means Doyoung read it before even walking inside the apartment. 

Jaehyun pulls out the letter, skimming over the words as fast as possible. “Oh my God,” he breathes out once he finishes reading. “Hyung, oh my God.”

Doyoung takes the letter back, carefully folding it. “The trial is in September. I have one month.”

Jaehyun frowns, lifting his face from where it lies on Doyoung’s shoulder. “One month to do what?”

Doyoung sits up, pushing Jaehyun off of him with gentle hands. “To convince my parents to give me full custody of Jungwoo willingly.” 

Jaehyun gapes at him. “But you’re not on speaking terms, are you?”

“I haven’t seen my parents in six years, Jaehyun,” he bluntly confesses. His voice is emotionless and linear, and his eyes give away no emotion. This mask Doyoung has perfected well enough that not even Jaehyun can see through it. “They almost ruined me and I had no intention of ever seeing them again, but circumstances have led me to this situation. I am between a rock and a hard place, and I have no choice but to face my worst fears to ensure Jungwoo’s safety.”

Jaehyun nods and rubs Doyoung’s shoulder lovingly, letting his hand wander up to his elegant neck. He rubs the tips of his fingers on Doyoung’s nape, scratching the short hairs with his nails. 

“What your parents did to you,” Jaehyun starts very carefully, fully aware that he’s treading on the thinest of ices. “Does it have to do with your sexuality?” 

Doyoung stays silent for a while, his jaw clenched impossibly tight, until he nods slightly, refusing to look at Jaehyun.

“Okay, well. My parents fucked me up too, you know?” He laughs dryly, feeling his throat constrict under the weight of years of trauma. “Actually, it was my mom. When my parents got divorced, she won the custody battle against my dad, who had nowhere near as much money and influence as she did. My mother’s family is old and well-respected in Seoul, so there was no chance my father was winning a legal battle of any kind against a Jung. Now that my dad was out of the picture, she could finally turn me into the perfect little prince she’d always wanted. She even changed my name, hyung.”

 

“Your name?” Doyoung interrupts his speech. He is finally looking at Jaehyun and, thankfully, there is no pity in his eyes, only understanding. 

“My legal name is not Jaehyun, it’s Jung Yoonoh,” the name feels alien and almost venomous on Jaehyun’s tongue. It sticks to the roof of his mouth like cheap candy and leaves a sour taste.

“Yoonoh,” Doyoung repeats, as if making sure he had heard right. It’s the first time Jaehyun has ever heard that name spoken so lovingly. 

“She is so strict and cold, you have no idea,” Jaehyun returns to his storytelling. “She forced me to pick Accounting instead of Literature like I initially wanted to. And she doesn’t know that I like men, obviously.”

Doyoung cups his cheek, caressing the sensitive, paper-thin skin under his eye with the tip of his thumb. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jaehyunnie.”

Jaehyun nods solemnly. “I’m sorry about you, too.”

Doyoung leans in and leaves the softest kiss on the corner of Jaehyun’s mouth. “I’m going to bed now. You should rest too,” he stands up and grabs Jaehyun’s laptop, placing it on his desk. “Goodnight, Jaehyun-ah.”

Doyoung walks out of the room without another word, closing the door behind him. 

Jaehyun screams into his pillow.

+++

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Doyoung announces one humid August morning. They’re having an American breakfast, courtesy of Jaehyun, who only cooks when the stars align.

Jaehyun lifts his eyes from his food to look at his friend. “Leaving for...?”

“My parents house.”

The rooms falls into a dead, chilly silence. Doyoung holds Jaehyun’s incredulous stare without ever yielding. It’s clear that he’s dead serious about this.

From down the corridor, the sounds of Jungwoo’s gaming can be heard. 

 

“How are you going?” Is what Jaehyun decides to ask.

“I rented a car,” Doyoung simply answers, digging his fork into a pancake. 

Jaehyun chokes on his apple juice. “You have a license?”

Doyoung smirks. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Jaehyunnie.”

That is a truth about their relationship Jaehyun prefers not to acknowledge.

“I’ll go with you,” Jaehyun blurts out, his fork clattering against the modern transparent glass plate.

Doyoung lets out a tired sigh. He pulls out a cigarette and stands up, walking towards their modest balcony. Jaehyun follows him, waddling behind Doyoung. 

Doyoung lights the cigarette in one swift motion. He’s trying to smoke less but, as the date of their trial approaches, his anxiety is becoming more evident. His nails are chipped and bloody, and his pack of cigarettes is much emptier than usual. 

Doyoung smokes in silence as Jaehyun watches, resting his elbows on the fence. He still hasn’t taken off his hieratic mask, which makes Jaehyun feel uneasy. He hasn’t seen Doyoung keep one of his many fake personas on for so long in months.

“I know that I can’t stop you,” Doyoung turns to look at Jaehyun, cigarette half-smoked. “If you’ve made up your mind about this then not even I can change it, but you need to know that it will be ugly. I do not intend to reconcile or anything of the sort, and I will battle if I have to. I, the black sheep who has brought so much shame on this family, have declared war on my parents. They will fight me, if only to prove that they are above me, with all their arsenal.”

Jaehyun gulps as he straightens up before approaching Doyoung. He stands close to him, enough that their knees almost brush against each other. “I will back you up, then.”

“You could suffer collateral damage—”

“I don’t care,” he grips Doyoung’s hip tightly, as if that would somehow make him understand Jaehyun’s point of view better. “Hyung, I don’t care. I would accompany you to the end of the world if you wanted me to.”

Doyoung’s eyes melt. His frown turns into a loving gaze, and he cups Jaehyun’s cheeks with cold but soft hands. “I know you would, Jaehyunnie. I know you would.”

 

The car Doyoung has rented is nothing fancy, but it’s practical. He tells Jaehyun to pack for a two-day trip, and that’s what Jaehyun does, shoving a couple of boxer briefs and clean T-shirts inside a sports bag. He’s never been too good at packing, a dark contrast to Doyoung’s perfectly folded clothes. His friend may be chaotic when it comes to feelings, but a gambler he is not. He has planned this trip—and the dreadful conversation with his parents—through and through. Jaehyun has even seen him rehearsing in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror and repeating the same words over and over as if they were part of a script or play. 

“Please call me if you need anything,” Doyoung tells Jungwoo as Jaehyun shoves their bags in the trunk unceremoniously. “Taeil is coming in a couple of hours and he will stay with you for the next two days, so treat him with the utmost respect, you hear me?”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes and stick his tongue out before wrapping his arms around Doyoung’s torso in a bone crushing hug.

Once Doyoung decides that Jungwoo has been lectured enough, he climbs inside the driver’s seat, gesturing for Jaehyun to join him.

“I hope you’re ready for a 7 hour drive,” Doyoung notifies Jaehyun, twisting the keys to start the engine. 

Jaehyun pulls out a book, lifting it so Doyoung can see. “I brought entertainment.”

“Am I not entertaining enough?” Doyoung teases.

“On the contrary, I need a break from your ingenious mind,” Jaehyun teases back, as always.

Doyoung snorts. “Let’s go before I get the urge to kick you out of this car.”

 

Jaehyun is a liar.

The book is just an excuse, a stage prop so he can deceive Doyoung into believing that he isn’t going to spend the entire ride staring at him.

The windows are rolled down and the breeze keeps ruffling Doyoung’s jet black hair. He’s been growing it out unintentionally, since he’s too busy to get it cut, and it fits him like a glove. His fringe falls on his eyes, framing his handsome face. He looks younger like this, less serious and tense. He’s so different from the guy Jaehyun met almost a year ago, and yet, somehow, he’s still the same. Arrogant, pretentious and irritatingly beautiful. Gentle, kind and incredibly selfless. He’s Doyoung, Dongyoung, Hyung. He’s everything Jaehyun has ever needed. 

“What are you looking at?”

Jaehyun jumps in his seat, dropping his book in the process. “Nothing!” He quickly denies as he bends down to retrieve the book.

Doyoung gives him a raised eyebrow but says nothing else. Jaehyun can feel the sweat running down his spine.

 

It’s a couple of hours later when things start to go south. Even though Jaehyun has returned to his book, he doesn’t fail to notice how Doyoung keeps gripping the wheel tighter and tighter each passing minute. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders tense, and there’s also a permanent frown on his face. His knuckles are starting to turn white.

“Hyu—”

“Fuck!” Doyoung sobs before Jaehyun can even finish. He pulls over violently and kicks the door open, emptying his stomach on the side of the road.

“Doyoung!” Jaehyun jumps out of the car, walking over to where Doyoung is crouched, gagging and crying at the same time. “Oh, shit,” he gasps once he notices the state Doyoung is in. “You’re having a panic attack.”

Doyoung drops to his knees, unable to support himself anymore. Jaehyun is there immediately, brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his back until he stops vomiting.

“I’m done,” he whines once his stomach allows him to.

“Wait a second, I think I have tissues in my bag,” Jaehyun runs to the trunk and opens the zipper of his bag so aggressively that it almost snaps. He finds the tissues and runs back to Doyoung, leaving the trunk and his bag wide open. He doesn’t care about being robbed right now.

“Here,” he grips Doyoung’s chin with tentative fingers and wipes his face with gentle touches. “As beautiful as always,” he whispers once he’s done.

Doyoung laughs sarcastically. “Please, don’t mock me.”

Jaehyun frowns. He grips the back of Doyoung’s neck, forcing their foreheads to touch. “Never,” his voice is firm and his eyes never leave Doyoung’s.

Doyoung sighs, shutting his eyes. He nods once before pulling away and standing up, wrapping his arms around himself. “Conversion therapy,” he blurts out. “That’s what my parents did.”

Jaehyun feels his blood turn cold. He’s become completely numb. Inside his chest, a profound and raging hatred starts to grow.

“I—”

“I brought some incriminating evidence with me,” Doyoung continues. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to hear whatever Jaehyun has to say. “Evidence of what happened to me. Once I show it to them, they will drop the case and hand me Jungwoo’s custody. Otherwise, I could get them sent to prison for negligence and, if I play the cards right, torture.”

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun stands up as well, walking over to his friends and wrapping his arms around his back. He buries his face between Doyoung’s wide shoulder blades, pressing his lips to his prominent spine. “It’s over now.”

Doyoung’s hands fall on top of Jaehyun’s, and he interlaces their fingers. “I know, but I must protect Jungwoo.”

Jaehyun squeezes tighter. “You will, I promise you. This will all be behind you soon.”

One of Doyoung’s hands reaches behind himself, falling on top of Jaehyun’s head. He scratches his hair lovingly. “This will be behind us soon,” he unwraps Jaehyun’s arms but maintains their linked hands as they walk to the car . “Let’s go, we have to continue if we want to reach our destination before midnight.”

 

Doyoung’s childhood home is as ostentatious and classical as Jaehyun was expecting. It’s a Western style estate with an entire garden and two high-end cars parked in the garage. Doyoung parks his rented one outside the fancy gate. He looks calmer now, as if letting it all out—quite literally—earlier had helped him greatly.

“Do you want me to go inside with you?” Jaehyun asks him softly.

Doyoung shakes his head as he unbuttons his seatbelt. “No way, I’m not letting them come anywhere near you,” he leans in to press a firm kiss on Jaehyun’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon, they’ll probably yield as soon as they see me. I hope they’re afraid of me.”

Jaehyun watches him as he walks to the gate. “They should be,” he murmurs.

 

An hour later, the gate lets out an ear-splitting sound. It’s Doyoung, holding a folder in his hands. His expression is serene and his movements are much swifter compared to the stiffness from before. He walks to the car without looking at Jaehyun and climbs into his seat, throwing the folder into Jaehyun’s lap.

“What is this?” Jaehyun asks as Doyoung puts on his seatbelt. 

“Read the last page,” is all he answers as he starts the car. 

Jaehyun opens the folder and finds page after page of legal documents that he can’t even skim over. He opens the last page, where he notices three different signatures. He reads attentively, trying not to miss any relevant information.

“Oh my God,” he chokes once he finishes reading. “You did it.”

Doyoung flashes him the biggest smile Jaehyun has ever seen. He radiates a completely different energy from, well, ever before. A heavy—the heaviest—weight has been lifted from his far too young shoulders.

“Hyung, you’re free. You and Jungwoo.”

Doyoung laughs brightly. He rolls down his window and sticks his head out, letting a loud scream of victory.

Jaehyun can’t help but shed some tears of happiness as they leave the house—and in doing so, Doyoung’s past—behind.

 

It’s around 2 in the morning when Doyoung decides that enough is enough and books a motel room for them. The place is nothing fancy, as to be expected of a road motel, but it’s enough for one night. 

Jaehyun walks inside first, stretching with a loud groan.

“I’m exhau—”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung bluntly interrupts him.

He turns around, only to be shoved against the wall before he can even react. Doyoung places a hand on each side of Jaehyun’s head, caging him.

“I’m not used to winning,” he whispers against Jaehyun’s neck. “So I’m feeling awfully greedy today,” he nips at the sensitive neck skin, drawing a low moan from Jaehyun’s lips. “Jaehyun-ah, can I have you?” He pleads, his lips brushing Jaehyun’s.

Jaehyun laughs. “I thought this day would never come,” his laughter becomes a loud whine when Doyoung digs his teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, pressing their crotches together at the same time. “Doyoung,” he gasps, his knees trembling.

Doyoung grips his waist tightly. “You’re so amazing,” he mumbles against Jaehyun’s jaw, pressing small kisses and biting softly. “So pretty and lovely. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.”

Jaehyun feels his ears turn red at the praise. “I want you too,” he manages to say before Doyoung smashes their lips together. It’s messy, open-mouthed and slow, but it’s the sexiest thing Jaehyun has ever done. Doyoung moans against his lips as he rolls his hips against Jaehyun’s.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he licks Jaehyun’s lips, and it’s so filthy his legs almost give out.

“Yes,” Jaehyun moans. “Please.”

Doyoung pecks him one last time before quite literally throwing him on the cheap mattress and climbing on top of him. His eyes are predatory, his irises lost in the dark of his dilated pupils. His mouth reconnects with Jaehyun’s in a faster kiss this time, but it doesn’t take long before Doyoung abandons his mouth in favor of attacking his neck and chest. Without looking, Jaehyun can tell that there are purple bruises blooming on his body. Doyoung is marking him, he knows, but it feels pointless. It’s not like he could ever belong to anyone else. 

“Take off your shirt,” Doyoung commands, and Jaehyun obeys. He lifts his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. 

Doyoung simply stares at him in awe, taking in all the curves and hard edges that compose Jaehyun’s body. His long, elegant hands caress Jaehyun’s skin as if he were made of the most fragile material in the world. The way Doyoung’s fingers dig into his flesh reminds Jaehyun of ancient marble statues, Roman and Greek masterpieces.

“You’re the most wonderful person I have ever met,” Doyoung mumbles against his clavicles. His hands keep wandering up Jaehyun’s torso until they reach his neck. He wraps his fingers around it, tightening softly but hard enough to make Jaehyun whimper in pleasure. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung’s firm voice brings him back to reality. “Open your mouth.”

He obeys instantly, even though his eyes are closed. He trusts Doyoung with his life, after all, and he’s never felt safer than in his arms, however skinny they may be. 

Doyoung inserts two fingers into Jaehyun’s inviting mouth, letting out a groan at the sight.

“God, Jaehyunnie,” he breathes out as Jaehyun sucks on his fingers, his pink tongue peaking in between them. “You’re irresistible.”

Once Doyoung pulls out his fingers, Jaehyun laughs drunkenly. “You really like me, huh?”

“No,” Doyoung denies. “I love you,” he plants a soft, somewhat innocent kiss on Jaehyun’s reddened lips.

“I love you too,” Jaehyun answers truthfully. “You’ve changed my life,” he confesses. “You’ve made me happy.”

Doyoung brushes his hair out of his forehead, pressing thousands of tiny kisses all over his face. “That is all I could ever strive for,” he murmurs against Jaehyun’s lips.

 

The rest is all a blur of stolen kisses, whispered declarations of love and bold touches. Jaehyun observes Doyoung’s angular body as he undresses, watching through half-lidded eyes. Doyoung’s skin is extremely pale, so much so that his veins are visible. He resembles marble, both to the eyes and the touch. Aside from ghastly, his skin is impossibly soft, as well as cold. There’s a cross necklace hanging from around his neck. It’s discreet, but its meaning is heavy enough to make up for the small size. “Old habits die hard,” Doyoung mutters when he notices Jaehyun watching. 

Doyoung takes his time exploring Jaehyun’s young body, covering every inch in kisses. He seems to favor his thighs, though, if the way he spends what must be hours just nipping at them means anything.

“Turn around,” he orders again, letting go of Jaehyun so he can move. 

Once Jaehyun is on his belly, Doyoung slaps his ass playfully. “Hey!” He laughs loudly, twisting his torso to look at Doyoung, who is smiling too.

“How can your ass be perfect too?” Doyoung whines, stroking Jaehyun’s cheeks. With one swift motion, he turns Jaehyun around again by the hips. He positions himself in between the younger’s legs, digging his nails into the skin of Jaehyun’s slim thighs. 

Doyoung pushes Jaehyun’s legs up, placing his ankles on both sides of him, and this is when Jaehyun knows the real fun is about to start. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung’s eyes are blown wide with realisation. “I didn’t bring anything with me.”

He understands. “It’s okay,” he assures Doyoung, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I trust you, just be careful.”

“Are you sure?” He asks against Jaehyun’s lips. Jaehyun makes an affirmative sound and lets himself be pushed back down by Doyoung’s bossy hand.

Doyoung coats two of his fingers in spit, making sure to put a show on for Jaehyun in the process. 

He opens Jaehyun up very carefully, pleasuring him with his other hand as well. “I think you’re ready,” he says after a while, pulling out his fingers. 

Jaehyun whines embarrassingly loud. There’s a line of spit running down his chin. 

Doyoung takes his whining as an affirmative response and starts preparing. He spits into his palm, using it to lube himself up. 

As Doyoung sinks inside him, Jaehyun recalls all the moments that have led them to this one. How the elder insulted him just for wanting to get drunk, their insistent push-and-pull dynamic, the fragments of his past that Doyoung shared in very small doses. Somehow, all of those have brought them to this one, this moment in time where Doyoung and Jaehyun are one.

Even though they are as close as two humans could be, Jaehyun wants more. He links his ankles around Doyoung, as well as his arms, trapping him.

“Jaehyun,” he gasps as he moves inside his lover.

“Doyoung,” he replies, as if their names were a language of their own that only they can understand. “More,” he’s the one commanding this time, and Doyoung is but a humble servant.

Doyoung’s thrusts alternate between slow and fast as he tries to bring out different reactions from Jaehyun. Meanwhile, Jaehyun clings to him, stabbing his nails on Doyoung’s broad shoulders as he tries to match his thrusts.

It doesn’t take long for both of them to reach their climax. After all, it’s been almost one year of build-up. Jaehyun can feel his skin tingle in anticipation at the same time as Doyoung’s cries become more frequent and desperate. His thrusts are turning erratic, and there’s a thick drop of sweat running down his beautiful face.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun says his name like a prayer, as if it were holy and his tongue and lips were unworthy. “Touch me, I’m almost there.”

Doyoung nods, biting Jaehyun’s lower lip as he wraps his slender fingers around him. Jaehyun’s back arches beautifully, his eyes filling up with tears. His release is stimulating enough to the eyes that Doyoung comes just at the sight of him, deep inside Jaehyun.

They stay joined for a while, just breathing each other in. Doyoung presses tiny kisses to Jaehyun’s face and neck as he strokes his sides, while Jaehyun caresses his lover’s back, playing with the short hairs on his nape. 

Once Doyoung decides to separate them, he pulls out of Jaehyun extremely slow as to not hurt him. After that, he stands up, leaving the bed and walking to the bathroom. Jaehyun watches his naked body: his slender hips and tiny waist, his angular back, his long and muscular legs... If perfection does exist, Jaehyun theorizes, Doyoung must be it. 

Doyoung comes back with a damp towel in his hands. He lies next to Jaehyun, resting his head on the pillow as he cleans his lover’s stained body in circular motions.

“Would it be awfully cliché of me to smoke a cigarette now?” He asks once he’s done wiping Jaehyun. 

“It would,” Jaehyun chuckles. “But also kind of sexy.”

Doyoung fishes out a cigarette from the back pocket of his jeans. He lights it before coming back to the bed, wrapping one arm around Jaehyun’s neck, pulling him closer.

“I’m going to sleep now, if you don’t mind,” Jaehyun informs Doyoung, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, pressing his lips to his skin for a chaste kiss.

“As you should,” Doyoung agrees, drawing on the side of Jaehyun’s face with his nails. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

But he’s already asleep.

 

The next morning, they meet again in the shower. Jaehyun drops to his knees, wrapping his swollen, pink lips around Doyoung. 

Doyoung buries his fingers in Jaehyun’s fading pink hair. “You were made for me,” he mutters, watching Jaehyun’s rhythmical movements in a trance. “And I was made for you.”

+++

The trial is set to be held a week after their return. During those seven days, neither Doyoung nor Jaehyun bother labelling their relationship.

To Jaehyun, Doyoung is still his best friend. He feels as if boyfriend doesn’t begin to cover it, and partner is too impersonal. Eventually, he settles for soulmate. That term, Jaehyun believes, is the most accurate. He mentions it to Doyoung once, while he’s buried deep inside Jaehyun, and he smiles so wide his gums show. 

Doyoung moves into Jaehyun’s room, leaving all of his stuff all over the place—including the ashtray, which Jaehyun threatens to empty inside Doyoung’s coffee mug one day.

Jungwoo never mentions this shift in their dynamic, but he does start referring to Jaehyun as “my brother’s partner” whenever he’s on his scheduled phone calls with his social worker. As for Jaehyun’s friends, none of them seem surprised. Yuta rolls his eyes—yet he can’t help but fist bump Jaehyun—while Taeyong claps like an excited baby. Johnny, however, wasn’t even aware that they weren’t dating before.

+++

The day of the trial, Jaehyun wakes up with a heavy weight on his chest. It’s Doyoung’s head, ascending and descending to the rhythm of Jaehyun’s breathing.

“Doyoung,” he tries to wake him up, scratching his scalp lovingly. “What’s wrong?”

He gets no verbal response. Instead, Doyoung tightens his hold on Jaehyun’s torso, clinging to him like a koala. “Babe,” Jaehyun gasps in between laughs. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” Doyoung apologizes, letting go of Jaehyun but keeping their legs interlaced. He rests his head beside Jaehyun’s on the pillow, so close that his breath tickles the younger’s cheek.

“Today is a big day,” Jaehyun speaks up after a short, comfortable silence. 

“Yes,” Doyoung agrees. “It is.”

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun strokes Doyoung’s thigh, which is laying across his stomach. 

“Not particularly,” Doyoung answers. “It’s just a formality, really, considering I got my parents to sign the papers.”

“It’ll all be done in just a few hours,” Jaehyun voices his thoughts.

“Yes,” Doyoung kisses his cheek lovingly. “Finally.”

 

The trial is short and awfully impersonal, especially considering the matter at hand is a child’s life. Jungwoo sits next to Jaehyun in the audience, since he’s decided not to partake in the process. Jaehyun catches him sneaking glances at the table where his parents are seated.

Once the judge declares their session over, Doyoung sprints out of the room, barely stopping to shake his lawyer’s hand. Jaehyun immediately runs after him, taking hold of Jungwoo’s hand and dragging him.

They find Doyoung outside, sitting on the monumental steps of the Court’s building, smoking one of his minty cigarettes. Jungwoo lets go of Jaehyun’s hand, running to his brother and taking a seat beside him. “Hyung,” Jaehyun hears him say as he approaches them. “It’s done.”

“We still have to wait for the sentence,” Doyoung tells Jungwoo as he strokes his blonde hair. “But yes, I want to believe you are finally free from their claws.”

Jungwoo sheds one singular silent tear. “Thank you,” he whispers, bowing his head in gratitude. There are many unspoken words implicit in those simple two. 

Doyoung presses a kiss to the crown of his brother’s head, wrapping his left arm around him. He finishes his cigarette, throwing the butt away as he blows the last puff of smoke. He turns to look at Jaehyun, who’s standing behind him, and offers him an inviting hand.

“Hungry?” Doyoung asks.

“Very,” Jaehyun replies. “But I have an idea.”

 

The owner of the kebab restaurant recognizes them as soon as they walk in, greeting them with a warm smile.

“Important day?” He asks them, pointing to their suits. 

Doyoung smiles back at him. “Very.”

They end up ordering a little bit of everything so Jungwoo, who is an extremely picky eater, can eat something.

“Please don’t lick my hand in front of your brother,” Jaehyun teases Doyoung once he notices the line of yoghurt sauce running down his fingers.

“Oh my God!” Jungwoo makes a disgusted sound. “Shut up!”

Doyoung kicks Jaehyun under the table, but he can’t fight the small smile that appears on his face.

 

Once they finish eating and Jaehyun wins the battle against Doyoung to decide who was paying, Jungwoo suggests they walk home. It’s getting dark outside, and the orange lighting casts irregular shadows on Doyoung’s angular face. He’s gained some weight, which makes him appear healthier and younger.

Jaehyun is so in love his chest hurts.

“I’m thinking of changing majors,” he blurts out all of a sudden. The comment may be abrupt, but the thought isn’t. Jaehyun has been entertaining this idea for almost the entirety of the summer, but he decided to put it on hold and prioritize Doyoung’s situation.

“You are?” Doyoung asks. He doesn’t sound very surprised. “What would you pick?”

“English Literature,” Jaehyun tells him.

Doyoung smiles widely and lets go of Jaehyun’s hand so he can wrap his arm around his neck, pulling him close and kissing his temple. “Good,” he whispers into Jaehyun’s ear. “I’m very proud of you for making that decision.”

He’s about to reply when Jungwoo interrupts him. “Oh, crap!” He exclaims. “I forgot to tell you that we ran out of toilet paper."

Jaehyun laughs loudly as he watches Doyoung chase Jungwoo down the street, yelling expletives.

Jaehyun’s chest is warm. His lungs are filled with future words of love that his mouth is eager to pronounce. For the first time in years, Jaehyun is excited about what the future holds. 

He’s finally found his family. Jaehyun’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dojaegay)
> 
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/dojaegay)


End file.
